


Comes Right Back

by tptigger



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Brace yourselves, Comics compliant, Hurt/Comfort, I am not kidding, M/M, Not Season 2 Compliant, Some angst, fixing canon character death, it's fade to black though, this fic has more kissing than my entire back catalogue combined
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-25 07:30:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 40,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16192931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tptigger/pseuds/tptigger
Summary: Hugh is back from the dead after six months, and finding it a little tricky fitting back into life on Discovery.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to awaytobeunshaken for beta reading this 40K behemoth. The one downside of waiting until you're finished to post something is saddling beta readers with a lot of words! Much appreciated! 
> 
> Also, many thanks to the Spaceboos chat for many discussions that fueled this.
> 
> A quick note: I used a lot of names from my other Culmets story, but this is a different continuity. (I'm bad at picking names, so I tend to stick with them.)
> 
> A lot of Hugh comes back stories focus more on Paul and I felt like Hugh needed a focus story, so I wrote one!

Hugh's world exploded into light. Had he gone into it, finally? He squinted, then closed his eyes against the bright light in them.

"DCoucltboerr." A familiar voice was shouting nonsense in his ear. 

He winced, the sound too much. He covered his ears, winced in pain at his own touch, and let them go, prepared for more pain. The sound had faded and now the light against his eyes dimmed.

"Is this better?" the voice resolved into that of Dr. Pollard. The breathy quality of her voice made it sound like she was whispering, except it was too loud for that. "Can you hear me?"

"Pollard?" Hugh asked, wincing at the sound of his own voice. He toned it down. "Why is everything so loud? Wasn't I dead? Didn't Tyler... Tyler's..." He opened his eyes, blinking. He was in a biobed--presumably in sickbay, but the bed area was surrounded by an optical privacy field, so he couldn't tell for sure.

"A Klingon agent. He killed you; that was six months ago ship's time. Commander Stamets and his team found your consciousness in the Mycelial Network. I'm not going to pretend to understand half of what they're telling me, but you're back and you're human. I even checked to make sure you were who you appeared to be using those scans you used on Tyler."

"Paul. Where's Paul? Did you call him a commander?" Hugh tried to sit up.

Pollard rested a hand on his chest. 

"Ouch!"

Pollard pulled away. "Lay back, Mister, your vitals are all over the place, and your senses are extremely acute."

Hugh lay back, squinting at the ceiling. "And yet the lights are at full."

"They're at thirty percent. Your partner is here, outside the privacy field, but to be frank, I'm not going to let him in here until we're sure you're who we think you are and not.... Who knows what from the fungal network."

"He's here?" Hugh started to sit up, but his head swarm so he thought better of it and laid back down. "Is he OK?"

"Despite his best efforts, yes--and I'd rather not add crushing disappointment to his list of ailments." Pollard said. "We know each other pretty well; convince me you're who you appear to be."

"You keep dried strawberries in your bottom desk drawer, you once tried Denobulan Blood Sausage at Starfleet Academy on a dare and got food poisoning because it was too rare for humans, and this one time in med school..." Hugh stopped. "Are we being recorded? You probably don't want that recorded."

"Saru wanted to, but I insisted on an audio privacy field. That said, there is a security guard outside with instructions to stun you if you make any sudden moves."

"Noted," Hugh said. "Can you run a SBFCT while you're....?"

"Already running the saliva and sweat," Pollard said. "By the time I let Stamets in here, we'll know if it's safe for you two to kiss. You're in no shape to be giving me a semen sample, and, as much as I hate to do this to you, I wouldn't recommend having sex for a couple days anyway. Between the hypersensitivity and the physiological signs of exhaustion, dehydration, and malnutrition..."

"Malnutrition?" Hugh echoed.

"Nothing major, but enough that we'll want to put you on a strict diet for awhile." She paused, her eyes darting to Hugh's bare arms. "Well, stricter than you're usually on to maintain that bodybuilder physique of yours."

Hugh just smirked.

"So," Pollard said, "follow my finger with your eyes and tell me about that one time in med school."

Hugh did.

* * *

A few minutes after Pollard had gone to make her report to Saru and the Captain, she reappeared at the edge of the privacy field with Paul at her side.

"The saliva and sweat tests were both normal," Pollard said. "Be gentle with him, Commander, his senses are extremely heightened. I'm beginning to think one of the reasons it took him so long to regain consciousness is how much we were manhandling him."

With that she left.

Paul still stood there, staring at him. Rooted to the spot.

"I assume they told you to test me to make sure I'm me first," Hugh said, softly.

Paul nodded, then rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Hugh started to push himself up to sitting, but his hands rebelled, so he laid back down. "We have privacy right, no one can hear?"

"Yeah?" Paul was whispering, but his voice rang like a bell. The last time Hugh'd seen him this unsure was when his research was being moved to Discovery.

It was not a comfortable comparison.

"Come closer, to be safe, because I seem to remember a threat involving turning my balls into fungal spores if I ever divulged this one."

Paul chuckled, but did as he was asked, leaning down so Hugh could whisper in his ear. 

"When you were twelve you ate some kind of wild mushroom that turned your urine purple for a week. Then you spiked your sister Stacy's salad with it, and didn't tell anyone. Your mom dragged her to five different doctors trying to figure out what was wrong, and no one ever figured it out."

Paul's breath hitched.

Hugh poked him, then winced. Even that light touch hurt. "Breathe, hon, I'm still traumatized from that one time I got just the right place on your..."

He couldn't finish his sentence, because Paul had covered his lips with his own. 

Hugh pulled back. "Ouch! Careful, babe..."

"I thought I was being careful..." Paul started to straighten up, but Hugh grabbed his arm, then let go instantly. Even that was too much.

"Shit, even that hurts," Hugh breathed. 

"I'm sorry." Paul straightened. "Pollard wasn't kidding about the hypersensitivity, huh?"

Hugh started to scrub a hand over his face, but even that felt like too much. "No, I guess not."

Paul held out his hand. "You set the pressure, ok?"

Hugh reached out, touching Paul's hand with a finger, then pulling away. "Argh." 

"Commander?" Saru asked as he entered the privacy field. "I take it from this little display that you are convinced this is indeed Dr. Culber?"

"Yes, sir." Paul said.

Hugh wrinkled his nose, but had to relax his face--even that sort of hurt. He.. Pollard had called him that too, right? "Commander?"

"Lt. Commander, technically," Paul said. "I was promoted... It's a long story."

Saru frowned. "Yes, well the Captain is waiting for your report."

"He can't come in here himself?" Hugh was affronted.

Paul sighed. "Tell her I'll be right out."

Saru disappeared again.

Hugh wrinkled his nose, confused. "Her? What happened to Lorca? And why isn't she coming in?"

"New captain--long story but Lorca was a traitor. She's Vulcan, and..." Paul paused, then leaned in, whispering in Hugh's ear, "I'm pretty sure she thinks a reunion like this is going to give her emotion cooties or something. She's worse than Burnham was!"

Hugh reached up, wanting to brush his fingers against Paul's cheek, then thinking better of it. "This sucks."

"It does," Paul agreed. "I remember things feeling pretty heightened after a jump, and it's hard to know if you've been in the network ship's time or real time. I need to make my report, I'll be back soon." He blew Hugh a kiss then left.

Hugh closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Then again. Keeping his eyes closed helped. Except if he closed his eyes, he started to drift off, so he forced them open again. He needed to stay alert. He wasn't sure for what, just that he did. Everything felt weird, wrong. What was the word that Paul had used?

Heightened.

Pollard came back into view. She was holding a padd and biting her lip.

Hugh suppressed the urge to rub the bridge of his nose. "I know that look; you want advice but you don't want to ask."

She sighed. "Stamets seems to think you're well enough to be consulted on your own treatment..."

"I thought you said everything was normal--other than this damn hypersensitivity I mean."

"Your adrenaline and corticosteroids are off the chart. There are a few other neurotransmitter imbalances that are likely causing the hypersensitivity." She held up the screen of the padd. "The levels are returning to normal--they're about 3% under the readings from two hours ago."

"So they'll return to normal on their own, but it'll take a couple days, or you can try to even them out chemically, but the hypospray will hurt like a bitch."

Pollard chuckled. "Essentially."

Hugh rolled his eyes. "And you don't think I'm the one who gets a say as to whether the stick is too much?"

"Multiple sticks, Doctor," she said. "Based on your response to some initial medications we gave you, your body is probably not going to tolerate high enough doses to completely normalize the levels of hormones."

Hugh winced. He looked around. Breathed in. The hypervigilance was too much.

"Maybe we see how bad the first one is?" His voice probably sounded weaker than he'd have liked. The problem with working the medbay on a ship was that sometimes his colleagues saw him at his most vulnerable.

"OK." Pollard grinned. "I'll try turn up one of those microneedles of yours."

Hugh chuckled. "They're under biobed two next to the giant ones. Actually, there might be some pediatric ones in the humanitarian relief stores if we can spare one."

"Noted." Pollard smiled. She left the room.

Hugh tried to push himself up again and immediately regretted it, laying back down.

Paul came back in, perching on a stool by the biobed.

Hugh looked at him, blinking.

"Would you rather I go?"

Hugh started to rub the back of his neck, then sighed as that still hurt. "I'd rather feel normal. Even just laying here hurts a little. I keep forgetting and trying to sit up, just to give my back a break, and my butt stage a rebellion. I can't even... rub my eyes or my forehead or scratch my nose."

Paul winced in sympathy. "Ouch."

"Exactly."

"Besides hounding Pollard to get back here with that hypospray, is there something I can do?"

Paul sounded lost. Hugh wanted to help him, but it hurt to exist.

Hugh shook his head, closing his eyes.

"Ready, Dr. Culber?" Pollard asked.

"As I'll ever be," Hugh sighed.

"Mr. Stamets..."

What? No, no, it was bad enough they couldn't touch. "He can stay."

"This might get unpleasant." Pollard looked pointedly at Paul.

"If he doesn't want me to move, I'm not moving," Paul said.

Sometimes Hugh was glad his partner was a stubborn SOB.

Pollard sighed.

"Ow," Hugh said as she stuck the hypospray in his neck. "Yikes, it's like the time I broke my..."

Pollard jerked away and the blood drained from Paul's face.

"Ankle," he finished, weakly. "Sorry Aisha. Did you at least finish?"

"Yes." Pollard's voice wasn't just soft, it was thready. "I was hoping the smaller needle would be better. Is the pain less?"

"More like a pulled muscle now." Hugh said. "Did you seriously find a micro-needle?"

"The pediatric needles are just about out of date anyway, so I made a judgement call."

Hugh took a deep breath. 

"Are you all right?" Pollard asked, her voice still weak.

Shit. He hated it when patients scared him.

"Yeah. It's fading pretty fast," Hugh said. "I'd guess I'm getting more signal from the same nerve endings, not more nerves firing. Which means I might actually be able to sit up without pain soon."

"OK, rest. You know how to signal if you need anything. Or send me the commander if he gets too annoying."

Pollard left again.

"OK, Paul, seriously what's with the promotion?" Hugh closed his eyes, resisting the urge rub at them.

"Saving the entire Federation and ending the Klingon war will do that. And there was a medal--I have yours in our quarters by the way. And again--it's only Lt. Commander, before you get too impressed."

Hugh snorted. "Look up the usual time in grade requirements and then tell me not to get impressed."

Paul fell silent. Hugh opened his eyes and looked over at him, but could no longer make out his face.

"Did it get darker in here?" Hugh asked.

"No."

"That would be the meds." Hugh yawned.

"Get some rest. I'm not going anywhere."

Hugh closed his eyes. He could see colors, the spread of the network.

Paul's voice, always so far away. He opened his eyes again. Found Paul's shadow.

"Hugh?" Paul's voice was soft, low. So worried.

"I'm OK, I just...." He sighed. Closed his eyes again. "I wish I were up to holding your hand."

"Me too. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere," Paul repeated. He moved the stool closer to the bed, and Hugh could feel his body heat radiating towards him.

Something unknotted in Hugh's stomach, and he let himself relax.

* * *

"Hey," a voice Hugh half recognized whispered.

"Shh, you'll wake him," Paul whispered.

"You want to come eat or should I bring you something?"

"Not hungry."

"Not a choice."

He could hear Paul sigh.

"Until he's up to bugging you to eat, I'm going to do it. Especially with that hare-brained stunt you pulled."

"Spare me the lecture; Hugh will give me enough of one when he's well enough to ask how we brought him back. If I have you bring something back are you going to eat? Not that I should leave him."

"Um..."

More footsteps, then Dr. Pollard's most exasperated tone. "Gentlemen, if you keep disturbing my patient, I'm going to have to ask you to leave." 

"Can you page Stamets if Dr. Culber wakes up?"

"If that'll get you two to stop trying to wake him up, then yes."

"You've been here a long time, Paul. He's asleep. Take a break. You should take care of yourself too."

Paul spluttered. "I don't..."

"Do I need to call security, gentlemen?"

Paul sighed. "Fine, I'm coming. I think Hugh's out for the count, anyway."

Hugh had to be dreaming right? Paul said he wasn't going anywhere, right? He drifted off to other dreams.

* * *

Sometime later he was awakened by Pollard's footsteps by the biobed.

"Dr. Culber?"

"He's asleep," Paul whispered.

"No I'm not." Hugh croaked.

"You were."

Hugh rubbed his eyes, then opened them.

"Are you more comfortable?" Pollard asked.

Hugh thought for a moment, assessing. "Yeah. It no longer hurts to exist."

Pollard looked at the biobed display. "Any chance you can stand up?"

"Are you kidding?" Paul hopped off the stool, getting physically between Hugh and Pollard. "He couldn't sit awhile ago!"

"Do you need the bed?" Hugh asked, pushing himself up to a seated position. He waited for a wince, it didn't come. It prickled a little, though.

"We've been ordered to report to a colony that experienced an earthquake; so we'll need it soon, yes," Pollard said.

Paul frowned. "Do we have a meeting about..."

"No," Pollard said. "Especially not after..." She stopped short. After what?

"Oh, good; I don't really want to move, but I'd be stuck for that."

What could he possibly be stuck for. Oh. Oh _no_. "Paul, you're not talking about _jumping_ are you? You're not still..."

"Not often," Paul replied.

"Not until those lesions heal." Pollard jabbed a finger toward him. "That last stunt was enough."

Hugh raised an eyebrow.

"Let's get you better first; then we'll turn you loose on my records," Paul said.

Hugh shifted, moving his feet to dangling off the bed.

"Just a second," Paul shifted, arms out ready to catch him.

"I'm not an invalid," Hugh snapped.

Paul frowned at him. "You've been dead for six months; humor me."

Hugh slid his bare feet onto the floor. "Wow, that's like a freezer. I'm never doubting patients about that again."

He stood. His feet felt like pins and needles. "This is doable, but not great--got some tingling in the feet."

"Get back on the bed." Paul placed a hand lightly on Hugh's shoulder, guiding him back to the bed.

Hugh hopped up, and Paul pulled his hand away just as the pins and needles started.

Pollard looked at the readings. "Let's go with another dose first; we don't arrive for a few hours, and I don't like those levels."

She left again.

Hugh looked at Paul. "How long have you been here? Don't you have work?"

"My shift is almost over. Tilly can get me if they need me," Paul said.

Hugh frowned. "Are you OK?"

"Fine, dear doctor." Paul smiled at him tentatively. "Just worried about you."

"When was the last time you ate?"

"A couple of hours ago."

Hugh looked at him dubiously.

"I assure you, Hugh, the Commander was gone a couple hours ago to eat." Pollard chuckled as she came back in. "Let's see how this injection goes." 

Hugh leaned back.

"Hopefully we'll see a massive improvement and you'll be well enough to walk and then I can release you to Commander Stamets' tender mercies." She held the hypospray up to his neck. He could feel the pinch of the needle touching his skin, but not the stick or shooting pain of several hours before.

Hugh chuckled. "OK. Hit me."

"I already injected you." Pollard lowered the hypospray.

Hugh blinked. "Well, that's more of an improvement than I was expecting."

"Don't knock it," Paul said.

"I'm not. Believe me." 

* * *

Hugh blinked as he materialized in his and Paul's quarters a couple of hours later. Being tucked away in a darkened corner of sickbay had been weird. This was even weirder.

"Computer, lights to fifty percent," Paul said before they could come up to full blast.

There was only one padd on the coffee table, the bed was unmade (and the sheets were still tucked in on his side), and there was a stack of Starfleet issue packing crates flat against the wall. One was open and next to the chest of drawers. "What's going on? Are you leaving?"

Paul rubbed the back of his neck. "We... Counselor Burgis wanted me to pack up your things. We didn't get very far."

Hugh just stared. "Why..."

"It's been six months, Hugh," Paul said. "Ship's time, anyway. She said it was time. I can unpack it. It's half a box."

"I..." He paused, searching for words. He felt grimy, covered in sweat. He wasn't sure how long he'd been--anywhere, really. In the network. Back.

"It's OK." Paul was looking at him with searching eyes. Longing. He reached out.

Hugh ducked away. He was much better and could stand without pain, but he was still constantly aware of the medbay gown on his body and the carpet under his feet and stuff still felt off and weird and so _loaded_ because he and Paul were truly alone now and... He needed a minute. And to feel less grubby. "I'm going to take a shower." 

He walked into the bathroom, shucking the sickbay provided medical gown and stepping into the stall. He hit the sonic shower and was immediately treated to an assault on his muscles. "Ow. Shit." He hit the off button.

Paul appeared by the vanity. "Function, pummel, off," Paul said, absently. "The intensity is under function too. Sorry--about the pummel thing I mean--I wasn't exactly expecting you home when I turned the shower off last."

"I'm starting to get that," Hugh said, softly. Did he fit anywhere anymore?

"I'm going to put your pajamas here and there's a new toothbrush replicating," Paul said. "Anything else I can do right now?"

Go away. Fuck, Hugh, don't tell him that, you were dead. Not like that anyway.

"A couple minutes to get my head together? Alone?" That was OK right? Just ask him for space?

"OK," Paul said softly, and stepped out of the bathroom.

The door slid shut behind him.

Hugh took a deep breath, five counts in, hold, six counts out. Once more.

Then he fixed the sonic shower settings, and turned it on.

* * *

Hugh pulled on the red pajamas, feeling as soft and flexible as when he'd put them on... not last night. Months ago. He remembered some things--talking to Paul in the network, breaking his own death to his partner, offering him what comfort he could. Helping Paul get Discovery back to their own universe (although late).

Something about Tilly? Burnham and Paul. Worried.

He was home now. Maybe just in time. Why did Paul have to pack his things now? There was someone in his position in sickbay (duh, Hugh, they really needed a couple more people as it was), had someone taken... Someone had dragged Paul to the mess hall and made him eat, he thought. Bawling him out for something. Or was it a dream?

Now he was being silly. Maybe. Was six months enough time for Paul to grieve? To find someone else? He rubbed his arms, the fabric feeling scratchy against his fingers. Were these new? Had the replicator made them out of something different?

"Hugh, you ok?" Paul called through the door.

Hugh reached out and touched the mechanism to release the door. It whined open, and Hugh fought back a wince.

Paul stepped through, placing a new toothbrush next to the one sitting on the vanity. He smiled. "That's so much better."

Hugh forced a smile, then rubbed his eyes. At least that wasn't hurting anymore.

Paul looked him over. "You look exhausted."

Hugh automatically looked in the mirror, frowning.

"I didn't mean..." Paul ran a nervous hand through his hair, then reached for him--Hugh stepped back as Paul's fingertips brushed his bicep. "You're still moving slowly and you're so quiet and just..." He stopped. "I'm overwhelming you, I can tell. Is the hypersensitivity still..."

Hugh sighed. "Yes and no. Everything's..." He shook his head. "Harder? Sharp? Kind of loaded. Loud. Unless that door's broken. Things in the network...." He trailed off, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"I want to hear all about it," Paul said. "When you're ready. Honestly, it sounds like right now we should just brush our teeth and go to bed."

"I think I'll sleep on the couch," Hugh blurted.

Paul's face just melted. Then returned to a careful neutral. "You take the bed; I can sleep on the couch."

Hugh scrubbed a hand over his face. Paul was being stubborn. Couldn't he just not be stubborn... "When we moved in together we agreed..."

"I think there should be a 'the one back from the dead gets the bed' proviso." Paul crossed his arms. "You'll sleep better, and frankly if I have to spend one more night in that bed alone, I'm going to scream."

Oh, honey. "I didn't think..."

"You're exhausted, dear doctor," Paul said. His voice was thin.

Hugh drew in a deep breath, digging deep. "Is there something I can do? Something small?"

Paul let out a jagged breath. "If you're up for a hug, I'd really like a hug. Or just touch me. Or brush your teeth with me and stop fighting with me and just _take the damn bed_."

The last line was just so _Paul_ that Hugh let out a nervous laugh. 

"What?" Paul asked.

The hug was probably going to be too much, but... Hugh reached out, resting his palm on the side of Paul's face, stroking Paul's lips with his thumb. "That was just the most normal thing that's come out of anyone's mouth since I've been back."

Paul's face was rough--not surprising, he probably hadn't shaved today, but it felt right. Almost normal. Nice. Paul was leaning into the touch more than he usually would but... if Hugh had been aware of going six months without Paul's touch, he'd be leaning into it too. And it didn't hurt or feel tingly.

The hug, an insurmountable request just moments before, suddenly sounded like the best idea in the world. Hugh moved in, wrapping his arms around Paul's shoulders. Paul slipped his arms underneath, wrapping one around Hugh's waist and the other around his back, tentative. 

"You can hold me a little tighter than that," Hugh whispered.

Paul's grip tightened. "That OK?"

"Perfect." Hugh leaned into the hug, transferring his weight to Paul. Tension left his legs and a knot he didn't realize was in his stomach let itself loose. He was home. This was Paul. _His Paul._ Everything was OK.

"Mmm," Paul said. He started to lower his arms.

"Don't let go."

"OK." Paul pulled him close again, resting his head on Hugh's shoulder. "I'm here. I'm right here."

"Can I change my mind about the sleeping arrangements?" Hugh asked.

He felt Paul smile against his neck. "Of course."

"I think I want to be the little spoon."

"Gladly." Paul squeezed him briefly; Hugh melted into the embrace. 

Hugh wasn't sure how long they stood there, but after awhile Paul said, "We should probably brush our teeth and go to bed before you fall asleep standing up."

Hugh sighed, letting his hands run down Paul's arms as he pulled away.

They brushed their teeth quickly, Paul glancing over at him every few seconds like he might disappear. Paul wrapped an arm around Hugh's waist and gently guided him to the bed.

Hugh sat, and Paul pulled back the covers for him. Hugh stretched out, and Paul laid next to him, pulling Hugh in close and wrapping his arms around him. Hugh exhaled, feeling warm and safe.

"This working for you?" Paul asked softly, wrapping a leg around Hugh's legs for good measure. "Not too tight?"

"Mm, perfect," Hugh managed, his eyes sliding closed.

"I love you," Paul breathed in his ear.

"Love you too," Hugh murmured.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-archive trigger warnings in the end notes. (Reminder that you can click to get to them.)

Hugh woke the next morning with his face buried in Paul's chest. Paul had one arm around his back, the other holding a padd resting on Hugh's shoulders.

"Morning," Hugh said, sleepily. He opened his eyes to see the black cotton of Paul's uniform undershirt. "You got dressed and climbed back in bed?"

"I had to make sure..." Paul paused. "It's a long story. And I'm going to have to go run a test of the spore drive with the AI navigator in a couple hours. I may have to go help with prep, hence the uniform." He sighed. "I wanted the whole day off, but..."

Hugh looked up at his partner, eyes narrowed.

"I'm sorry. Starfleet is breathing down our necks for a successful test, and we couldn't put it off, and my people are good, but I need to be there."

Hugh snorted. "You mean Cadet Tilly tried to bully you into taking the day off and you compromised," Hugh said.

"Ensign Tilly relayed my request to postpone the test for a day and it was denied," Paul said with a sigh. "We're supposed to commence the moment the other crisis is in hand."

"Ensign?" Hugh echoed.

"Yeah, there were a lot of promotions with the medal ceremony and..." Paul trailed off, setting down his padd. "I brought breakfast back in one of those temperature controlled containers for you. You should eat."

"But then I'd have to move." Hugh buried his face in Paul's chest.

Paul kissed the top of Hugh's head. "I mean, I can bring it to you, but I think that would probably also be disruptive."

"You don't get to move either."

"If our positions were reversed, you'd be giving me a twenty minute lecture about how breakfast is the most important meal of the day, that I never take care of myself, and that I'm not allowed to faint on you again.

"And then I'll add in we don't really know what's going on with how you came back--was your body in stasis? What did we bury? And Pollard said she found some slight malnutrition..."

Hugh sighed, and pushed himself to a sitting position. "I'm going, I'm going." He paused, could he? He leaned in towards Paul's face. Paul moved to meet his lips and Hugh kissed him briefly--once, twice, three times.

"I love you." Paul pulled away. "You need to eat."

Hugh smiled. "I love you too." He got up, sitting at the table and opening the warming container to find a veggie and chicken omelette and breakfast potatoes.

Paul joined him at the table, sitting across from him.

"Thank you, by the way," Hugh said.

"What, like I'm going to let you starve?"

"That too," Hugh said. "But for your patience last night, I was kind of a mess. And yesterday, and how long were we in sickbay?"

"18 hours I think. It was awhile before you woke up and I think you caught a catnap around the time I went to the mess hall. Are you feeling better? No, wait, we kissed without hurting you, you must be better. Are you a lot better? I hope you're a lot better. "

Hugh took a bite, letting the eggs and red peppers wash over his tongue. The temperature was perfect and it tasted fine. "Yeah, I think so. Things were just... I think my brain was recalibrating or something." He frowned at the food. "I wonder if I should have started off blander."

"Pollard gave me instructions. And as for your brain needing to recalibrate--the network will do that to you."

Hugh frowned. "You said something about an AI? Please tell me you're not jumping anymore."

"Our main research is focusing on an AI, but I'm still occasionally jumping. Rarely. Starfleet hasn't asked in a couple months and last time..." Paul paused. "It's a long story. And I will tell you, it's just... there's a couple other things I want to make sure you hear from me and not the grapevine." He paused. "Maybe you should finish eating first."

Hugh forced down a mouthful of potatoes. He was going to regret this. "Was there someone else? I think I heard someone insisting that you eat last night."

"Yes, but it's not like that."

"Paul, it's OK, I mean I was dead..."

Paul pulled a face. "G-d, suggest I slept with Straal while you're at it. He's about as big a threat."

Hugh blinked. "Did you just...."

Paul nodded, his eyes widening. Hugh took another bite. He knew a Paul Stamets epiphany when he saw one. Paul would need a moment for that to sink in before he could explain.

"Yeah. I have a new best friend," Paul said, quietly. "I..." He scrubbed a hand over his face.

"I want to hear all about it when you can get the words out," Hugh said. "Unless something else is..."

"They're connected. You know Rhys?"

"The Tactical Officer? Yeah, he's one of my patients." Hugh snapped his fingers. "That's why the other voice was so familiar. He gave you a choice of going with him or he was going to bring you something."

"You heard that? I thought you were asleep--I wouldn't have left..."

"I thought it was a dream. Next thing I knew you were back. Don't worry about it."

Paul sighed, relieved. "His fiancée was killed in a battle with the Klingons about three months after we entered the alternate universe. So she'd been dead six months and everyone had mourned both him and her when we got back and it just... It was too much for him.

"I wasn't much better. I started being late for shifts, missing staff meetings, once, notably a counseling appointment. He was having similar issues."

"Counselor Burgis paired you up," Hugh said.

Paul's eyebrows shot up. "How...?"

"It's one of her favorite therapy techniques," Hugh said. "Especially for stubborn SOB's who probably refused to join a support group."

"Me or Rhys?" Paul asked.

"Both of you based on that question." Hugh took another bite of potatoes.

Paul snorted. "Right, so..." He sighed. "I'm not even sure where to start, and I've got like three million things tucked in my brain as 'things I wish I could tell Hugh about' so I'm just going to start with the big stuff; if you think your digestion can take it."

"Since you're not about to tell me you slept with him, I think I'm good."

"I slept on his couch, he had the bed," Paul said. "Scuttlebutt drew completely different conclusions."

"Do I get the whole story?"

Paul rubbed the back of his neck. "It was the day they were supposed to be married..."

Hugh winced. "Oh, poor guy."

"Yeah," Paul said. "I didn't want to leave him alone. We might've killed the back half of that bottle of the Picard '54 we picked up on that last shore leave."

Hugh snorted. "Plenty more wine out there; just as long as you didn't get into the Alpha Centauri..."

Paul gasped. "I would never."

"Sorry, of course you wouldn't. Anyway, you were saying?"

"And by we, I mean I nursed a couple glasses and he..." Paul sighed. "Look, I don't want to repeat what was said, but I held him while he cried; he cried himself to sleep, I manhandled him into bed and then..." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Something just felt..." Paul shook his head.

"You were worried about leaving him so you crashed on the couch?"

"Yeah." Paul said. "You're taking this better than I expected."

"You have a new friend and I'm so proud of you," Hugh said. "I know how hard that is for you. And I trust you, if you say I have nothing to worry about, I have nothing to worry about."

Paul smiled at him.

"You don't look relieved."

"That was the easy thing."

Hugh set down his fork. That was easy? "What's the other thing?"

"Finish eating first."

"Paul, you're scaring me."

"Finish eating first."

Hugh reached out, taking Paul's hand. "You can tell me anything." He kissed Paul's knuckles, leaning into it. It was so nice to be able to touch Paul without it hurting!

"I know, it's just... hard to talk about, and it's going to be hard for you to hear."

"Do you want to wait?"

Paul frowned, then shook his head. "You need to hear it from me."

Hugh stood, keeping hold of Paul's hand and hauled him to his feet.

"Finish eating," Paul repeated.

Hugh placed a hand on Paul's shoulder. "I lost my appetite. Talk to me, babe." He guided Paul to the couch, then sat, pulling Paul into his arms. He kissed the crown of Paul's head. "Talk to me."

Paul leaned into the touch, and Hugh could feel him trembling. Whatever it was, it was pretty bad.

"It..." Paul paused. "I'm here now, I'm getting better, but... On our anniversary.... I... a lot of the day is kind of a blur; Tilly said later I was too quiet to even classify as a grump. I... went to work, and then back to my... our..." He sighed. "Damnit, I just broke that habit."

Hugh leaned his head on top of Paul's.

"Don't get me wrong, I like this 'problem'; anyway, I came back here... grabbed my migraine meds--the really strong ones-- and went up to observation lounge C--right at shift change, everyone was either in quarters or the mess hall... I was considering taking the whole bottle."

Hugh's breath caught. Shit.

Paul reached up, touching Hugh's face and brushing a gentle kiss against his lips. "I'm here. I didn't. I'm ok.

"Rhys came looking for me--it was luck, really, that it was him; Tilly and Burnham were looking for me elsewhere-- he walked in and asked me where the hell I'd been and... I handed him the bottle, told him not to let me have it back."

Paul smiled, weakly. "He asked me why, and when I told him I was thinking... thinking about taking the whole thing, he frog marched me down to sickbay and Counselor Burgis and... you probably know a lot of what happened next."

"I like this guy already." Hugh didn't think the tears in his eyes made it into his voice.

Paul brushed away the tears with his thumb.

"Don't you ever dare. I don't care what happens to me, OK?" Hugh said. "I love you, I want to grow old with you, but if something happens again, you do your mourning and you move on and you don't go _trying to fucking join me_."

Paul caressed Hugh's face, eyes softly narrowing. "You do the same, dear doctor."

Hugh leaned in, and Paul met him, kissing him slowly, moving softly. Hugh leaned back, gently urging Paul to follow until Paul was lying on top of him on the couch. It felt so good and then... he was overwhelmed by it. He pulled away, putting hand between their lips.

"Stop. It's too much." Hugh frowned. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't you dare apologize." Paul sat up, then pulled Hugh into his arms. "Told you you weren't going to like it."

Hugh leaned into the hug, feeling a small flutter of guilt that Paul was essentially comforting him over his own suicide attempt...

"Wait, Paul, our anniversary was..."

"Discovery skipped nine months getting back from the alternate universe."

"So for my family, anyone not on this ship..."

"It's been fifteen months," Paul said. "That's why people keep saying ship's time. Otherwise it's calendar time. Even the Captain's used it once or twice and she wasn't even here."

"I should call... oh gee, wait, that will freak her out maybe you should..."

Paul kissed his brow. "Shh. Captain gave me orders to let it go through channels first."

"That could take..."

"Shh," Paul said. "Breathe. Get your bearings. Your mom is going to need a lot of handholding. Your sister and nephews and..." He smoothed Hugh's hair. "If it's more than a couple days, we'll take matters into our own hands."

Hugh snuggled into Paul's chest.

"I'm here, I got you," Paul said, rubbing Hugh's back with the flat of his hand.

They sat that way for a long time.

* * *

"You want to get the third thing out of the way or are you tapped out after talking about our anniversary?" Hugh asked after awhile.

"Third thing?" Paul asked, his voice far away.

"The spore drive. You sleep OK? You sound like you're fading."

"Last night I slept well. For the first time in about six months; I kept rolling over in bed and waking up when I didn't land in your arms."

"Aw, babe." Hugh shifted a little so he could hug Paul a little tighter. "We'll get you caught up soon enough. So the spore drive? You up to telling me about it?"

"There's a committee to determine if I'm going to do the jump. The Captain, Burnham, the CMO--who's supposed to look at the records and determine if it's in Starfleet's best interest and then another doctor--I get to choose--who's supposed to represent my best interest. Right now it's Pollard, because I had no idea who to pick and you always spoke highly of her..."

"If it couldn't be me she'd be my second choice." Hugh moved again, intending to get Paul into his arms instead of the other way around, but Paul gently tightened his grip--he wasn't having it right now. OK. "So, that's why she said not until the lesions heal, but what lesions?"

"She'd probably be able to explain it better than I can, other than 'weird bumps on my brain scan aggravating my migraines'--but when you're back on active duty, if you're comfortable, I'd like to change it to you."

"If I'm comfortable?" Hugh echoed.

"It's... they're not going to just let you veto it for no reason, you know, and... I mean... The worst thing about losing you is that I was _right there_ , three feet away when Tyler/Voq/whoever the hell he is broke your neck and I couldn't do a damn thing about it."

Hugh tightened his arms. "Paul, you were in no shape and you couldn't have and..."

"I knew. That's why I pushed you but I had the words all wrong and I was trying to keep you from him and the..."

"Paul, breathe." Hugh's head spun. "And I put you in a restraining field."

"If you start blaming yourself I'm going to..." Paul trailed off. "Don't blame yourself. That's my whole point. If something happens, which situation is going to give you more comfort?"

"G-d, Paul."

Paul brushed his lips against Hugh's. "You have a little while to think about it--they're not going to let me change it until you're back on active duty anyway. If you don't want to..."

"You think I'm letting someone else look after you? After the lesions heal? Is Aisha _serious_? If you're getting lesions..."

Paul dropped his head onto Hugh's in relief.

Not that Hugh wasn't happy to protect Paul, but... "What aren't you telling me?"

"Pollard was... There was a terra forming failure on a colony near the edge of the neutral zone, the lesions were awful, but the situation they wanted us to deal with was worse; this was... maybe two days before our anniversary?"

"Oh my G-d."

"Yeah. I could see Pollard looking from her notes to the pictures from that colony..."

"Are you sure this captain is better than Lorca?"

Paul frowned. "Now that you mention it; that's a good question."

"Anyway, I could see her trying to figure out if the risk to me was worth the risk to them, but I could't quite care."

"The jump probably would've happened if Rhys and Tilly hadn't barged in to inform the captain that I'd been exceedingly down and they were concerned my judgement was impaired--Pollard usually asked for my input and I think Rhys was concerned she was hinging on my consent too much..."

"The more you tell me about him, the more I like this guy."

"He's a good friend."

"I look forward to meeting him outside of the medbay. Do you two usually meet up for lunch?"

"Duty permitting, yeah," Paul said. "You're going to need to get dressed first."

"In a minute," Hugh said. "I'm comfortable."

"You want to be wearing those when Tilly comes looking for me for the drive test?"

"But I'd have to move." Hugh snuggled closer to Paul.

"That is a downside." Paul sighed.

"There's more, isn't there?"

Paul scrubbed a hand over his face. "I made an unauthorized trip to the network yesterday."

"To pull me out. Without authorization from your superior?"

"Well, I had clearance from the science officer, but not medical clearance."

Hugh sighed.

"You don't remember? Contacting me? Tilly. Your consciousness was overwhelming her, we had to do something."

"Getting me back was an accident, wasn't it?"

"The plan was to talk to you, try to figure out what you were trying to tell us; tell you that you were hurting her."

"I don't remember."

"It's ok," Paul said. "I went to talk to you and you grabbed on and said 'take us home', so I did and... I woke up in the spore chamber with you lying at my feet. Naked. I think that freaked out Tilly more than the other things, to be honest."

Hugh blushed.

"I put my jacket over your unmentionables and we called medical and... Pollard could probably tell you more than I could at that point."

"Tilly hasn't had any more trouble?"

"No," Paul said. "You can see why Pollard did a full work up and everyone spent some time quizzing you."

Hugh nodded. 

Paul squeezed him tighter, kissing his brow.

"This is kind of worrisome," Hugh said. "I.... I feel like me though?"

"You really do," Paul said.

"Also, if you pull a stunt like that again..."

"Burnham and Tilly agreed we had to try," Paul said.

"I get a vote next time," Hugh said, firmly. "Because for Tilly, absolutely, no question, but..."

"Of course you get a vote," Paul said. "Yours counts double. Or maybe is the only one that counts or..."

Hugh kissed him before Paul could make a promise he couldn't keep.

* * *

"If you don't want Rhys or Tilly finding you still in your PJs, you'd better change," Paul said awhile later, dropping a kiss on Hugh's brow.

Hugh sighed, prying himself from his partner's side. "Are you sure we can't just lock ourselves in here for a day or two?"

"Blame Straal, he's the one whose brilliant idea it was to let Starfleet co-opt our research," Paul said.

"If he hadn't, you'd still be on Deneva," Hugh said, going to the closet. "And I still wouldn't be."

"That's a longer conversation," Paul said. "And you'd better grab civvies--the Captain is a stickler about uniforms when people aren't on active duty."

"Seriously?"

Paul shrugged. "Something about morale."

Hugh went to the chest of drawers and dug up slacks and a polo shirt. "So there's got to be big news or gossip."

"Ship or family?"

"Both. Either. G-d, I hope I hear from my sister soon. Freddy's fourteen now!"

"And shaving," Paul said.

"Seriously?"

"It was like, three hairs," Paul said. "I was visiting a couple months ago--we were nearby, and your family didn't really want me shipping them your shaving kit, so I hand delivered it. I hope that's..."

"It's my grandfather's shave kit. I would've given to him when he started shaving anyway."

"I might've also taught him how to use it."

Hugh felt his heart grow about two sizes. He returned to the couch, leaned in, and kissed Paul thoroughly.

Paul blinked. "That was not the reaction I was expecting."

"You made sure that kit got where it belonged; knowing my dad he was on the other side of the galaxy and did I ever show you the picture of the nicks on my face when I tried to figure out how to shave off tutorials in the public databanks?" Hugh pulled off his pajama top, replacing it with the polo shirt. "And I'm assuming that Freddy's dad hasn't magically been found? I mean, he's technically M.I.A..."

"Yes, yes, I don't think you've shown me that, and no such luck," Paul said.

"I'll have to dig that picture out sometime," Hugh said. He dropped his pajama pants and pulled on a pair of underwear.

“Ok, normally I don't mind the show, but please don't do that again until I’m allowed to do something about it.”

Hugh grinned. “Sorry.” He pulled the slacks over his briefs.

“No you're not.”

“Well, maybe only a little.” He waggled his eyebrows as he folded his pajamas.

Paul reached out and swatted at him. “I just want to hold you tight and…”

The door chime sounded before Paul could finish.

“Hold that thought,” Hugh said, heading to the dresser and stuffing his pajamas in the top drawer. "Come in."

The door opened to reveal Tilly shifting from foot to foot and tapping her fingers against her thigh.

Paul stood, and grabbed his uniform jacket off of the chair. "We ready, Ensign?"

"One hour warning, Commander," Tilly said. "The captain wants us ready to go after lunch."

"We should probably eat then." Paul pulled the jacket over his shoulders. "You feeling hungry, Hugh?"

"Yeah, I could eat," Hugh said. "I'm supposed to be in sickbay for more testing this afternoon anyway."

"You must feel like a pin cushion... I mean welcome back, Dr. Culber.... I mean..."

Hugh just smiled, opening his arms wide.

"Gentle, Ensign, he's still a little hypersensitive," Paul fussed.

Tilly grinned, crossing the distance between them and catching Hugh in a bear hug. "I'm glad you're back, Doctor."

"Me too."

Hugh looked up as they pulled apart to see Paul grinning. Hugh grinned back.

"I'll walk with you to the mess hall," Tilly said.

"What, you're not going to join us?" Hugh asked.

Tilly blinked in surprise. "I don't want to impose."

"You're not imposing," Paul said at the same time Hugh did.

They looked at each other and laughed.

Paul reached for his padd. "Let me send a message to..." Paul frowned. "Huh. Rhys is logged out of messenger. That's weird when he's on duty. Let's see if he's in the mess hall."

Hugh raised an eyebrow.

"Let's just say I wasn't the only one forgetting to eat sometimes," Paul said.

"And by sometimes he means I was reminding him to go haul Rhys's ass from the bridge," Tilly said.

"Paul, she's not your secretary," Hugh scolded; he wrapped and arm around Paul's shoulders and started steering him towards the door.

"Bryce and I have a schedule," Tilly said as they walked out.

Paul rolled his eyes. "You do not."

"We do too, sir, want to see?" Tilly asked. "It's on the server; Detmer, Burnham, and Airiam have access too."

Hugh snickered. "Glad to see you have more of a support system now."

"Support system or nag brigade, depending on how you want to look at it." Paul said as they reached the turbolift.

"Want me to add you to schedule, Doctor?" Tilly asked.

The turbolift door opened to reveal Rhys, whose jaw dropped. "Hey, I was just coming to find you."

"Funny story, I was just going looking for you," Paul said as he stepped onto the turbolift.

"Wait, did we both remember to eat?" Rhys asked.

"Technically, I reminded Stamets so your record is unscathed," Tilly joked.

"Rhys, I think you know my partner, Hugh Culber," Paul said.

Paul Stamets was getting something resembling formal? Hugh wished he had a medical tricorder handy--was Paul feeling OK?

Hugh reached out a hand to shake. Rhys's grip was firm, but his hand was shaking.

"Rhys, Paul told me a lot and I don't think I can thank you enough for being there for him." Hugh let go of Rhys's hand, and reached out to squeeze Tilly's shoulder. "I hear the two of you burst into a committee meeting to keep Paul from making bad decisions regarding a spore drive jump."

Rhys smiled, but it didn't seem to reach his eyes. "You're welcome." He looked at Paul, then back to Hugh.

"He told me the truth about the rumors," Hugh said. "And that I have nothing to worry about." He paused. No. Paul should get to tell him the other thing. "So calm down, ok? You and Paul are friends, and you have no idea how happy I am about that."

Rhys smiled again, this time more genuinely.

Hugh rolled his eyes. "This ship's gossip mill, I _swear_." He reached for Paul's hand, and was gratified when he was met halfway.

"It would help if these two would actually say something instead of letting it go," Tilly said.

Paul's grip tightened. "Someone doesn't want to report..."

"Stamets," Rhys said, his voice low. "Tilly's right, we probably should say something."

"You want me to go with you?" Paul offered.

Rhys pulled a face. "For what?"

"For when you talk to Saru about...."

"Drop it, Stamets."

Hugh looked from Rhys to his partner, who was too busy rubbing the bridge of his nose to catch Hugh's eye. Tilly's brow was furrowed and she was frowning.

At least he wasn't the only one confused.

The door to the turbo lift opened and they filed out. Paul squeezed his hand and Hugh squeezed back. Paul gently rubbed his thumb along the back of Hugh's hand. Hugh sighed, some of the tension he hadn't realized he'd been holding leaving him.

He'd been gone for six months. Things were going to be rough for awhile. He had Paul. They'd make it work.

"Doctor Culber, you're looking better than when I last saw you."

Hugh turned and smiled. "Specialist Burnham! It's good to...." He stopped dead in his tracks as he took in her insignia. "Excuse me, Commander Burnham...." He paused, his brain rushing to catch up. "Wait, _how long_ was I gone? Paul, you said it was six months!"

"Burnham was reinstated for her actions to help end the war with the Klingons," Tilly said proudly.

"Really, Tilly, you didn't think I'd left that out _so Burnham could tell him herself_?" Paul said.

Tilly flushed. Burnham cracked a smile.

"Discovery was involved in ending the war?" Hugh asked.

"We can tell you about it over lunch," Paul said, gently leading him towards the mess hall.

* * *

"Tilly, tell me you didn't," Hugh said as she was explaining about her experiences on Q'nos.

Tilly hung her head.

Hugh rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You are damn lucky..."

"...the drug was compatible with human physiology, that I didn't end up taken hostage, raped, sold into slavery, somehow permanently damaged, or..." Tilly paused, turning to Burnham. "What was the other thing, Commander?"

Oh, good for Burnham. He was glad someone had already reamed out Tilly for those choices.

"Sold in one of the street vendors like the gormagander," Burnham said without missing a beat.

Hugh choked on his sandwich. "They were selling what?"

"Gormagander meat." Tilly shuddered.

There was a gentle hand on his elbow. "Doctor Culber."

Hugh stood even as his brain registered the presence of the CMO, Dr. Price. "Sir."

"You're not on active duty, relax," she said. "I finally got approval for an additional doctor on staff. The timing couldn't be better: if you want the position it's yours."

Hugh looked at Paul. "You going anywhere?"

"Not if you take that job." Paul smiled at him.

"I'd be glad to come back," Hugh told his boss.

"I look forward to having you back." The CMO headed for the food replicators.

Hugh collapsed back into his chair. He hadn't even thought about the fact he'd been replaced, that he would need another position that he would....

"Hugh?" Paul asked, his eyes narrowing

Hugh reached for his hand. "I just hadn't thought though the consequences of my position being filled."

"We'd have all petitioned Starfleet to get you back if necessary," Rhys said. "I don't know of anyone who actually likes Dr. Steinberg."

"Lt. Rhys," Burnham said, her voice low.

"I like her," Tilly said.

"Name someone you don't like," Rhys said.

"Captain Lorca," Tilly said.

"Someone not from an evil universe," Rhys pressed.

"Um...."

"I rest my case," Rhys said.

Paul glanced over at Hugh, his eyes narrow, considering. Then he turned to Tilly. "Let's face it, when you're not mortifying us with it, it's one of your more endearing qualities."

"You mean like when I..." Tilly started, but then jumped. As if someone had kicked her. "OK, I guess so."

"What?" Hugh asked.

"Well, actually..."

"Tilly." Paul's voice was low, warning.

Tilly rubbed the back of her neck. "Where was I?"

"Ducking something I probably need to hear," Hugh said. What was going on?

"Don't hit him with that now," Paul said.

"I'm not made of glass, dear," Hugh said, softly. He wanted to shout, but Tilly looked ready to bolt.

Her eyes were darting from him to Paul. Hugh had the vague notion that maybe he was putting her in the middle of a disagreement with Paul and he shouldn't.

Paul frowned. "I already hit you with a new best friend..."

Rhys's eyebrows shot up at that, but Paul kept going, oblivious to what he'd just hit Rhys with.

"... and a suicide attempt, and this time yesterday just being in this room would've..."

Hugh frowned. "I can be the judge of what I can handle."

"Hugh, please, let it go for now."

"What is it, Tilly?"

Tilly looked at Burnham, as if pleading with her to help her choose, and Hugh had the overwhelming urge to hug Tilly and tell her it wasn't her fault that he and Paul were fighting.

"Hugh," Paul said, his voice low.

"I'm not made of glass."

"No, but even tempered steel needs to cool off once in awhile," Paul said. "Let this one go, dear doctor? For me?"

"You're worrying me," Hugh said. "What don't you want me to know?"

"It's about Tyler," Tilly said, quietly.

Hugh shook his head. Oh. "Only you could be kind to the man who murdered me."

"That was Voq," Tilly said.

Paul collapsed back in his seat. Hugh heard the words "deal with the nightmares" under his breath. Paul's or his, he couldn't help but wonder?

"Huh?" Hugh looked at her, confused.

"What do you remember?"

"Tyler was.... he feeling out of sorts, it sounded like having L'Rell on board was aggravating his PTSD symptoms, but I did the scans anyway. Someone had done a real number on him. I was telling him there were no signs of an overlay personality, but there was research...."

"Wow, I couldn't remember you being _that_ close," Paul said quietly.

"There was an overlay personality?" Hugh asked. "We checked..."

"Tyler was the overlay personality," Burnham said. Her knuckles were white on her fork.

"His memories and consciousness was mixed with the Klingon, Voq," Tilly added, her voice soft. "Tyler was in control until... L'Rell did something. He killed you, framed Stamets, and then went with Burnham to the Shenzhou." She paused, looking at Burnham.

"Keep going," Burnham croaked.

"He... attacked Burnham, confessed to killing you. Burnham did some gymnastics to get him back to the ship, and... I'm fuzzy on the details-- I think _everyone's_ fuzzy on the details..."

"Dr. Pollard was monitoring the situation and could probably give you the best explanation," Rhys put in, "but essentially L'Rell... eliminated the Voq personality or sublimated it or..."

"Anyway, we ended up with Tyler with Voq's memories and he was sitting alone and we'd just been in that other universe and seen how big of a difference an environment makes and I thought 'what happens if sitting long like this triggers him becoming a supervillian' and so I went and sat with him and Commanders Stamets and Burnham were mad for weeks and..."

"Tilly, breathe." The entire table spoke at once.

Tilly took a breath.

"They just... let him wander the ship," Paul said. "They took away his computer access, sure but..." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "He actually had the nerve to apologize to me... like...."

Hugh took Paul's hand, wondering if he dared hug him in the middle of the mess hall.

He noticed Rhys was squeezing Paul's shoulder.

He squeezed Paul's hand. "I'm right here, babe."

Paul nodded, still rubbing at the bridge of his nose... oh, no, it was the corner of his eyes. Oh. Oh shit.

Rhys caught Hugh's eye from Paul's other side, then his eyes darted meaningfully towards the door.

Oh. This was new. Paul was about to start crying and Hugh had _backup_.

"Let's go to that conference room," Rhys suggested. "Excuse us." He grabbed Paul by the shoulder.

Hugh stood up, letting Rhys manhandle Paul, keeping his grip on Paul's hand tight and as he kept pace.

Rhys checked the conference room and then beckoned them inside.

The moment the door was closed behind them, Paul was in Hugh's arms (and Hugh wasn't entirely sure if that was Paul falling into them or him pulling Paul to him). Hugh hugged him tightly. "I'm here now. I'm OK. I'm here."

Rhys stood behind them awkwardly, and Hugh wasn't sure whether he should suggest leaving or...

"I'll... be back in the mess hall if you need me," Rhys said.

"Thanks, Pete," Paul said quietly.

The door slid shut behind Rhys.

Paul, now that they were alone, leaned into Hugh's shoulder and let himself cry.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Discussion of suicidal ideation, with very few details. Please be careful if you need to.


	3. Chapter 3

"Commander Stamets report to engineering."

"Argh," Paul said. He pulled away from Hugh, his hands lingering on Hugh's hips.

"I should be getting to sickbay as well." Hugh rested his hands on Paul's shoulder.

Paul's neck was turning pink. "You uh, might need to change your shirt first. Looks like some asshole got snot on it."

Hugh shrugged. "Yeah, but he's _my_ asshole. It's OK." He leaned in, brushing his lips against Paul's. "Go do your test, but do my nerves a favor and stay out of the spore chamber."

"The AI's driving, don't worry." Paul leaned in, kissed him, started to pull away, and then leaned in and kissed him again. 

Paul let go of Hugh's hips, stepped away and then turned back.

"Babe, get going before you give me a bad rep with the captain before I'm even back on active duty."

Paul kissed his cheek and then headed for the door.

"You might want to wash your face," Hugh called after him.

"Ok," Paul replied as the door opened for him.

Once the door closed behind him, Hugh took a deep breath, rubbed the back of his neck and then looked down. Yeah, he needed to change his shirt. It should come out?

He kind of wished he'd been wearing a uniform jacket, those had seen worse.

* * *

Hugh walked into sickbay a few minutes later.

"You changed your shirt," Dr. Price said.

"There... was an incident," Hugh said. "I didn't think you'd be overseeing my exam personally."

"Assuming your nerves are better, I'd like to do your intake exam as well."

"I think so," Culber said. "We can try it and see?"

"As tolerated may be the operative phrase for a few days yet," Price replied. She patted a biobed. "Hop up. Let's start by looking at your neurotransmitter levels."

* * *

Hugh drummed his fingers on the biobed. It was weird being in sickbay with nothing to do, but the test results would be done soon, and Dr. Price had, in her words, "a pile of paperwork" she wanted him to take care of. (Hugh was always amused that people still called it that when most ships just used padds--though he'd heard rumors of some that used clipboards for some reason.)

"Dr. Culber," Pollard said as she entered. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than last night, thanks."

"I hear you're coming back."

"That's the plan," Hugh said.

"Oh thank goodness, Dr. Steinberg just doesn't have a taste for Kasseelian Opera, and..."

She trailed off as another person in a medical uniform entered. Her hair was in a severe bun and her face was etched in a permafrown.

"Dr. Culber, have you had a chance to meet Dr. Steinberg?" Pollard asked.

Steinberg looked him up and down, her lips pursed.

Hugh longed to be wearing his uniform, or at least the white, short sleeved shirt that Paul had gotten snot on; he'd opted for a black tank top (to make life easier during the examination), and he felt like he was suddenly being judged and found wanting.

"It's good to meet you." Hugh extended his hand.

Steinberg took his hand. Hugh wondered if she was squeezing really hard or his hand was still hypersensitive. "It's nice to meet the legend in person. I've heard a lot about you."

Hugh glanced at Pollard, who was hiding a smile. "Nothing too over the top I hope."

"Rumor has it you're rejoining the staff."

"Yes; Dr. Price finally got approval for an extra pair of hands and I jumped at the opportunity. This must be awkward, having to work with the person you technically replaced."

"If you're half as good as your reputation, we'll have no problems."

With that, she walked over to a work station, picked up a padd, and swept out of the room.

Hugh fought to keep his jaw from dropping. "Please tell me her bedside manner is better than that."

Pollard just shook her head.

"Ouch. Tilly has the patience of a saint."

"You don't know the half of it," Pollard replied.

Hugh raised his eyebrows, but knew better than to ask. He'd have to get that story out of Tilly.

Dr. Price came back in. "Dr. Culber. All your tests were normal, and you appear to be in perfect health. As I said earlier, 'as tolerated' is going to be your mantra for the next few weeks. I'm OK with you resuming normal activities, as long as you get plenty of rest. If you want to start lifting weights again, start at half whatever weight you were lifting and work up from there; don't go up more than 5 kilos a day."

That was.... "You're still concerned."

"To be quite honest, Hugh, I have no idea exactly what happened, and poking at it too far feels like looking a gift horse in the mouth. Let's not push it, OK?" She reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "Steinberg's good, but you're better, and I'm really glad to have you back."

"Thank you." He flushed. "Um, because Paul will make me ask specifically: does regular activity include sex?" 

"Your heart's in prime condition, your lungs are fine, and your semen's as human and harmless as your saliva and sweat. The hypersensitivity, if you're still experiencing any, could make things more enjoyable or too much. I'll leave it up to you and Commander Stamets to find the right approach, but if things get uncomfortable, stop."

Hugh nodded.

"And make sure you get at least 8 hours of sleep. I'll be sending that particular order to Stamets to make sure you adhere to it."

Hugh chuckled. "Noted."

"I don't want you on active duty for at least a week, but I'm already working on reassigning patient rosters and will send you records once that's complete. Don't even think about asking me for Commander Stamets to be assigned to you. This is the one and _only_ time I'm going to say this, but Lorca was right: Stamets never should have been your patient in the first place."

"Noted, Sir. Probably add Tilly and Rhys to that list."

"I wasn't aware you and Lt. Rhys were acquainted," Dr. Price asked. She was studying him carefully.

"Pau--er, Lt.... urgh, _Commander_ Stamets informs me they're best friends now. That could get awkward. Also... a question?"

"Shoot."

"Commander Stamets said something about a panel and wanting to appoint me..."

"I think we'll allow him that," Dr. Price said. "After what nearly happened last time..." She shook her head. "The wording on the orders is 'concerned with Commander Stamets' best interest' and you're probably the most qualified person on the ship for that. I'll send him the paperwork, and a release, since I know better than to try to keep you out of his records."

Hugh chuckled. "Thank you."

"Black alert," was announced over the speakers. Hugh didn't think, he just looked around to make sure all liquids were secure. He bumped into Price.

"What are you doing?"

"There's a..." he pointed, suddenly searching for the word.

Pollard secured it as he spoke.

"I'm securing my patient," Price said, "but glad to see your reflexes are intact."

Hugh chuckled, sitting back on the bed. "I guess I'm not used to being in here while off...." His head started swimming as the ship jumped. "Whoa."

It was like a flash sandstorm in his head: all swirling granular movement. Then it subsided.

"Dr. Culber?" Price asked.

"I got really... lightheaded for a minute there. Right with the jump. It's stopped already."

Price picked up a tricorder. "I'm not getting any unusual readings. Stay put. In fact, lie back."

Hugh did as he was told.

Price returned a few moments later with a glass of water and handed it to him.

Hugh drank obediently.

"Let's keep you here about 30 minutes, while I have a word with Commanders Stamets and Burnham and Ensign Tilly about how they brought you back."

"OK," Hugh said. "Make sure you tell Paul it stopped right away, he's..."

"Stop, Culber. Right now is his turn to take care of you."

"Yes, sir." 

* * *

"Did you beam up here?" Hugh asked about two minutes later as Paul strode into the room, Tilly on his heels.

"The team can work on the data for awhile, crew health is paramount," Paul said. "Especially yours." He reached out, then hesitated.

"The hypersensitivity isn't back, I just got really lightheaded and off-balance for a minute," Hugh said.

Paul took his hand, accepted a scanner module from Tilly--who was holding a tricorder that was most definitely not a medical model--and used it to scan Hugh with his free hand.

Tilly frowned at the readings. "Commander."

Paul leaned over her shoulder. "What do you make of this, Ensign Tilly?"

"Fewer mycelial spores than when we first brought him back," Tilly said. "I wonder if they left when we jumped through the network."

"It worked?" Hugh asked.

Paul shrugged. "Slightly better than before Ripper; not as good as anything with one of us piloting."

"It's progress," Tilly said.

"We were supposed to land near Risa, not Proxima," Paul said with a sigh.

Hugh squeezed his hand.

"Proxima was along the course, though. Dr. Culber's vitals and spore levels are stable now," Tilly said. "Maybe take a tricorder home and watch his baselines for awhile? Other than that..."

"Other than that, you make sure you're here, in sickbay, any time we go to Black Alert," Paul said. "Just as a precaution."

"OK," Hugh said.

Paul blinked. 

He was surprised? Seriously? Had he been expecting Hugh to argue?

"Commander Stamets, a word," Price said.

Paul stepped away, not letting go of Hugh's hand until he absolutely had to.

Hugh couldn't hear, and stopped straining, closing his eyes instead.

"Doctor Culber?" Paul's voice was so soft, he almost missed it.

"Yeah, babe?" he asked absently. His eyes opened and... oops. He'd just "babed" Paul in sickbay.

"I need to go back to my lab and get people squared away. Dr. Price wants to run another test or two, and then she'll release you to our quarters. Get some rest; I'll be there as soon as I can OK?"

"OK," Hugh said.

Paul leaned in and gently pecked his cheek. His hand ran down Hugh's arm as he walked away.

Hugh sighed.

"What is the best course of action in the face of the unknown, Dr. Culber?" Price asked as she started scanning him again.

"Caution," Hugh replied. "It's still nerve wracking."

"I know, Doctor. I'll let you rest as soon as I can."

* * *

Price sighed a few minutes later. "Dr. Culber?" Her voice was soft.

Hugh opened his eyes. "I'm awake. Mostly."

Price chuckled. "Well, that's a good sign. How are you feeling?"

"Better."

"No relapses in lightheadedness? New symptoms?"

"No."

"OK. Everything's normal, so I'm inclined to agree with Commander Stamets: we should have you here for future spore drive tests, but other than that I think you're good to go. I'm going to need the bed anyway."

"Thanks, Price." 

"Anytime, Dr. Culber. You're dismissed. Go get some rest. If you so much as think about showing up for happy hour tonight, you're in trouble, understood?"

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Hugh was glad to get back to his quarters; he was bone tired and just wanted to take a nap.

He palmed open the door and... nothing happened.

He laid his palm on the door again. Still nothing.

"Computer, list authorization to access quarters 272."

"Lt. Commander Stamets, Paul. End list."

Shit. He hadn't been added back to the door codes. He rubbed the back of his neck, sighed, and headed for the security office.

* * *

Hugh walked into the security office a few minutes later.

"Dr. Culber!" Noble greeted him from a desk with a computer console. "Glad to see you're up and about. What can I do for you?"

"I haven't been added back to the authorization list for my quarters. Any chance you can let me in?"

"I might be able to do better than that." Noble hit a couple buttons on the console ahead of him. "The request is on Commander Saru's desk. Just a minute." He hit the comm. "Security to Commander Saru."

"Saru here. What can I do for you?"

"Commander, this is Chief Noble, may I have verbal authorization to add Dr. Culber's access to his old quarters? That way I don't have to keep tracking down Commander Stamets for permission for someone to let him until you get around to signing the paperwork."

"Verbal authorization granted, Mr. Noble. Please tell Dr. Culber I'm glad he's well enough to be up and around."

"Will do, Commander. Security out."

"Thank you," Hugh breathed, relief flooding through him.

"No problem," Noble said. He hit some more buttons. "Hold on a sec, let me get someone to cover the desk." He disappeared, and reappeared later with a nervous looking cadet that Hugh didn't recognize. The cadet sat at the desk.

"I'll walk you down to your quarters; sometimes the wall panels need to be cajoled into accepting new authorizations in a timely manner." Noble stepped towards the door, gesturing for Hugh to proceed him.

"Thank you." Hugh went through, turning toward the turbolift.

"No offense, Doctor, but you look about ready to drop," Noble said. "I'd hate for you to have to drag yourself back up here because of a computer glitch."

"Thank you." Hugh hit the call button for the turbolift. "I think."

Noble chuckled. "Don't worry, Doctor, I'm sure Commander Stamets is pleased to see you. I heard you're coming back to Sickbay; does that mean Dr. Steinberg's leaving?"

Hugh tried to hide a satisfied smile as the turbolift doors slid open. "No, everyone had been working on higher than average patient loads, so we got a very well timed additional headcount. You could ask Dr. Price to reassign you; she'll be working on the rota in the next few days. Just don't spread that around..."

"Deck twelve," Noble said. "I take it I'm not the only one who's complained to you?"

"No," Hugh said. "Dr. Pollard assures me that Steinberg's a good doctor but... We'll have to work on her bedside manner is all."

Noble snorted. "You do like them feisty."

"I resent the implication, Chief," Hugh said.

"My apologies."

"Even if I were attracted to women, I'm with Commander Stamets."

"My apologies."

Hugh rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Sorry, it's been a rough day."

"I was out of line," Noble said as the door opened. He shifted uncomfortably, then went through.

Hugh followed. "Spit it out, Chief. I can tell when you're holding back."

"Scuttlebutt says Stamets and Rhys..."

"Are friends."

"Are you sure?"

"Stamets told me so," Hugh said firmly.

"OK." Noble said, his tone sounding unconvinced.

Hugh just wanted to get into his quarters and lie down.

He was relieved when they came into view.

"Try the panel," Noble prompted.

Hugh did. The door beeped, but nothing happened.

Noble plugged in a padd, and made some adjustments. "OK, try it now."

Hugh palmed the panel, and the door slid open. He sagged with relief. "Thank you, Chief. I won't keep you."

"You're welcome, sir. And sorry again for sticking my nose where it doesn't belong."

"Noted," Hugh said.

He stepped into his quarters, letting the door shut behind him, the lights coming on automatically as he did.

Hugh sighed with relief, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked around, at a loss. Then he yawned.

A nap was probably a good idea. Get some rest before Paul got home and... Oh.

He checked the drawer of his nightstand, half expecting it to be cleared out and half expecting it to be exactly as he left it.

His personal PADD was there, in its charge station no less, as was the last scrap of his childhood blanket, neatly folded. Paul had somehow actually thought to trash the various other detritus, including the (probably now expired) lube.

Hugh went to the replicator. Shit, which one was it? "Computer, display personal lubricant options with any custom notations."

A list appeared, with one halfway down having notes in sparkle font with the words "This one, dear doctor". He laughed as he selected it. "Computer, visual completion indicators only."

He ditched his boots, tossing them messily in the closet. "Computer, lights program Stamets one."

The overhead lights turned off, now immune to the motion sensors, and the bathroom light came on at 50%. Paul had programmed it shortly after they'd joined the Discovery for when Hugh had the late shift. Hugh came home and was able to see, but Paul didn't get rudely awakened by bright lights. (Though he usually woke up long enough for a kiss and to snuggle into Hugh's side.)

Hugh flopped on the bed, closed his eyes, and imagined Paul was there next to him as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Hugh woke with his face buried in Paul's chest, his arm across Paul's stomach. Paul was resting a padd on his shoulders again.

Hugh rubbed his eyes, not trusting his voice.

"You feeling better?" Paul set down the padd and ran his hand down Hugh's back.

"A bit," Hugh said.

"No more lightheaded episodes?" Paul started making circles with the flat of his hand and Hugh just wanted to melt into him.

"No. Had to go to the security office to get into our quarters though."

"Shit," Paul said. "I thought the paperwork..."

"Sitting on Saru's desk. Chief Noble got him to give verbal authorization to code me into the database. He even walked me over here to make sure it took. I'd have appreciated it except that I got an earful about you and Rhys. I set him straight, but..." Hugh stopped because if he hadn't known better... "Paul did you just sigh?"

"Noble is friends with McGovern, who was... let's say giving Rhys a rough time. That's kind of why we didn't do much about the rumors--they started and she quit bugging him."

"There are better ways to handle that."

"Tell that to Rhys," Paul said.

"I will."

"I'm sorry," Paul said.

"I'm just glad you told me so I wasn't blind sided," Hugh said.

"I'm all yours," Paul said, softly. "I love you."

"I love you too," Hugh said.

They lay there for a moment, Paul still rubbing circles on Hugh's back. Hugh closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling.

"Don't drift off on me again," Paul said gently. "It's almost dinner time and Dr. Price said to make sure you ate at regular intervals."

Hugh snorted. "She told me that too."

"Yeah, well, I just got you back, I want to make sure you take care of yourself."

"Just as long as that doesn't mean moving for awhile," Hugh said. "I'm so comfortable."

"Me too," Paul said.

A chirping came from the night table drawer.

"Is that my padd?" Hugh asked.

Paul stretched out, somehow reaching the drawer without jostling Hugh too much or letting him go. "Looks like your network access is back. It's your mom. You want to let me get up?" He handed Hugh the padd.

"I thought you said you were comfortable," Hugh said, hitting the accept call button.

His mother appeared. She had bags under her dark eyes and her hair was greyer than Hugh remembered. She was wearing her medical whites and Hugh could see her diplomas hanging on the back of her Starfleet Medical office behind her.

"Hi, Mom," he said.

"My baby." She started crying. "How?"

Hugh looked up at Paul, who shrugged.

"How much did they tell you?" Hugh asked. He yawned, and scooted up, settling himself so he was snuggled in the crook of Paul's arm.

"My god, did I wake you, sweetie?" His mom dabbed at her face with a handkerchief.

"No, your timing's good; I just woke up," Hugh said.

Paul tightened his arm around Hugh's shoulders. Hugh leaned into his touch, grateful for the physical support. He was exhausted, still, despite the sleep, and his mom was crying.

"You look beat," she said. "And they didn't tell me much, just that the Discovery crew did some kind of experiment that brought you back."

"By Discovery crew they mean my genius partner and a couple of our friends," Hugh said. He pointed the padd so it would pick up Paul's face.

"Hi, Dr. Culber," Paul said.

"Other than that, I really can't tell you anything more if you're not cleared to know about Paul's work," Hugh said.

"You hold on to that one," his mom said. "As if bringing you back weren't enough, he taught Freddy how to shave and he's been checking in with him and your sister and giving Freddy dating advice."

"You've been what?" Hugh asked.

"He called and asked," Paul said. "He's been crushing pretty hard on this boy and... mostly I told him how you treated me when we first started dating? Well, the G rated version."

Hugh chuckled.

He saw his mom look down, hopefully pretending she hadn't heard that last sentence.

"When we managed to be physically together and not on video chat anyway. He's been crushing on this boy and... I think they're going out today? Or maybe tomorrow, I keep getting my time zones mixed up.

"I hope he finds out before; he's supposed to call me after and I don't want to have to fight you for the padd."

Hugh looked from his partner to his mom.

"Which reminds me, Paul, there was something you wanted to talk to me about? You left a couple messages the other week and things have been busy...."

Paul's grip on Hugh tightened. "I found something in Hugh's stuff I wanted to talk to you about, but...." Paul trailed off. "I guess it's a moot point now."

What was he talking about? Why would...

Oh. Oh _shit_. No wonder he (and Rhys?) hadn't gotten very far packing up Hugh's things.... Had he...

Hugh buried his face in Paul's chest, unable to face even the thought, yet alone confront his emotions. Or _Paul's_ emotions on finding the ring secreted in Hugh's underwear drawer.

His mother tutted. "You look like you need some more rest, sweetie."

"Yeah," Hugh said, more into Paul's chest than the padd (which Paul had grabbed at some point to keep from falling).

"I'll let you go, and I'll call your father and sister. I'll tell them to wait until tomorrow before calling you. Get some sleep. I love you."

"I love you too."

The Starfleet insignia appeared on the padd. Paul set it on the nightstand.

"You... you started packing up my underwear drawer when you had to stop, didn't you? Because of the thing you were asking my mom about," Hugh said.

"Yes, I found the ring. It's not like we hadn't been talking about it but..." Paul pressed the bridge of his nose to Hugh's forehead. "I don't think either of us is in any emotional state for this conversation."

Hugh kissed his lips, not putting any heat behind it, but pouring as much love into it as he could. Paul kissed back, gently mirroring Hugh's movements in a way Hugh had learned to associate with Paul being insecure.

"I love you," Hugh said when their lips parted, though he didn't pull away.

"Love you too."

Hugh cuddled into Paul's chest, wrapping his arms around him. He could feel more than hear Paul's sigh of contentment. Paul started running his fingers through Hugh's hair, working out the tangles.

"For the last six months, I swear, every five minutes I kept thinking 'I need to tell Hugh that', now that you're back... every thing in my mind feels like things you shouldn't have to deal with yet." Paul sighed.

"Can you start with Freddie and this guy?" Hugh said. "I mean, my thirteen year old nephew..."

"He turned fourteen last week."

"Oh yeah, he did! I'll have to..."

"I might've sent him something and said it was from you _in absentia_ ," Paul said.

Hugh reached up, cupping Paul's face with his hand. "You are amazing, you know that?"

Paul shrugged. His padd chimed.

"You have an alarm set on that thing?" Hugh asked. "Do you need to go wrangle Rhys?"

"Nah, Bryce is on 'make sure Rhys makes it to dinner duty' tonight," Paul said. "That's actually my reminder for the same dinner--it's a weekly thing, and I forgot to turn it off."

Hugh raised an eyebrow.

Paul rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Rhys was doing the social withdrawal thing, so one of my jobs as his accountability buddy was to make sure he made it to his game night. It starts with pizza and sometimes beer or wine and goes on for awhile."

Hugh raised an eyebrow. "Game night? Like..."

"Um... kind of a weird house rule, but that's all I can tell you until you've been properly sworn to secrecy."

"You're kidding."

"I gather it has to do with the Lorca regime," Paul said, "he didn't approve or something? Anyway, now it's Tradition and..."

Hugh stared. "You know I normally..."

"Have your happy hour inservice thing, yeah," Paul said. "You're welcome to join us, but I wasn't really expecting you to. I just don't like to have to keep secrets from you."

Hugh smiled. That was a nice change, at least. "Did you want to go tonight?"

"Up to you. I mean, I assume you're not going to the inservice thing tonight."

"Price told me to stay home and get some rest," Hugh said. "I don't think I'm really up to a lot of new people. If you want to go..."

Paul cupped Hugh's face again, stroking his ear with his thumb. "Is that your way of saying you need time to yourself?"

"No; it's my way of saying I understand if you need a break."

"I had to deal with the test jump today; that was too much time away from you; especially given what happened when we jumped."

"You're going to be hovering when you run the next test aren't you?"

"Look who's talking. And I wasn't dead for six months."

Hugh scrubbed a hand over his face.

"I get that you didn't want to go through what I went through the last six months," Paul said. "If you say I don't jump; I don't jump."

Hugh stared. Then his stomach rumbled.

"You want to go to the mess hall? Or would you rather I bring something back here?"

"Paul..."

"You can lecture me about taking care of myself all you want, just do it while you're eating."

"That requires _moving_ ," Hugh pointed out, snuggling against Paul.

Paul started to pull away.

"Don't," Hugh said, pulling him close again. "Just... don't leave me."

Paul brought Hugh into his arms, kissing his brow. "I'm here. I'm right here."

Hugh leaned into his chest, clinging. He shouldn't be, he should be....

"I'm right here." Paul kissed the top of his brow again. "Breathe with me a minute, your breath's getting shallow."

Hugh hadn't realized, but yes, it was. He drew in his breath with Paul, then let it out. Several times. Paul gently caressing his arms.

"I was planning on coming back you know," Paul said softly, once Hugh's breathing was back to normal.

"Yeah... I just... Paul the last time I saw you jump..."

"I'm okay. I've jumped three more times since then and I'm still OK. Well, I haven't had any other mental symptoms, but some killer migraines and.... Look, I signed the thing Price sent me, you'll have my records tomorrow and you can see for yourself." Paul kissed his nose. "Right now, dear doctor, I need you to take care of yourself and eat. Which means at least one of us needs to go to the mess hall. Are you coming with, or am I getting food and coming back?"

Part of Hugh wanted to hide in a corner and just not deal. Hiding in their quarters was also tempting.

"We can sit by ourselves and make the other chairs disappear," Paul offered. "Unless... well, almost anyone you'd want to sit with would be at the medical thing, wouldn't they?"

"Tilly. Burnham. Collins and Kaminsky."

Paul pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing. Hugh didn't want to poke that bear.

"Tam."

"She's probably in Bryce's quarters for game night."

Hugh stared. "That... is not a sentence I thought I would hear you say. How long has this thing been going on?"

"Awhile," Paul said. "Secrecy. So are you coming with me to the mess hall?" He paused. "I mean, we could both go and bring food back if you'd rather."

"Let's... let's go and see how it is?" Hugh said. Dinner could be busier than lunch, but with the medical staff in conclave and this game thing... it might not be so bad.

* * *

Hugh held tight to Paul's hand as they entered the mess hall. The buzz of conversations pricked at his ears, his eyes darting to pick up movement.

He took a deep breath. 

Paul turned. "Food to go?" His brow was furrowed and he was frowning. 

Hugh wanted to say no, that it was OK, that he could stay.

Paul squeezed his hand. "It's the end of the day."

"I had a nap."

"And then your mom called you crying," Paul pointed out. He squeezed Hugh's hand. "You want to meet me at home? Or wait next door?"

"I can stay long enough to get food," Hugh said, squeezing tight to Paul's hand.

Paul looked at him, eyes searching.

Hugh jumped at a cacophony of thunder, then looked around. A very sheepish cadet was piling a broken ceramic mug onto a tray.

"Sure about that?" Paul asked. "I mean, broken dishes are a cut hazard, sure, but..."

A string of profanity cut off his thought. 

The cadet's hand was covered in blood; she reached for a napkin in the pile from her broken tray.

"Cadet, don't, you'll end up with ceramic shards in the cut," Hugh ordered; he dropped Paul's hand and crouched, grabbing her hand before she could fill the cut with ceramic shards. He made eye contact with Paul. "I need a clean napkin, babe."

Paul nodded.

The cadet whimpered. "I'll bleed out."

"You won't," Hugh said, even as he examined it. "I know it looks scary, but it looks like you just got a capillary. Some pressure until you can get to sickbay and the attending can attack it with a dermal regenerator and you should be good to go."

The woman flushed.

Paul appeared with a black napkin. 

Hugh folded it in half, and applied it to the wound. "Here you go. Put some pressure on it and go up to sickbay."

"And next time use cut proof gloves." Detmer appeared, already wearing a pair of cut proof gloves. She started picking up the tray. "I've got this, Cadet. You heard Doctor Culber, go to sickbay."

The cadet walked off, blushing.

Hugh rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Was I too harsh?"

"I think she was just embarrassed," Detmer said.

"Better than whatever poor soul has the night shift tonight having to spend twenty minutes picking ceramic shards out of that cut." Hugh sighed.

"I think Dr. Steinberg has the late shift this week." Detmer straightened up, tray full of mug shards in hand. "You probably did that cadet a favor; Steinberg is a _lecturer_."

Hugh raised an eyebrow. Lecturing patients was Dr. Price's number one pet peeve. How was Steinberg lasting?

"Don't you and Rhys have that thing with Bryce tonight, Commander Stamets?" Detmer asked.

"Bryce is making sure he eats," Paul replied. "I'll be back next week. Though why you think it's your business..."

Hugh winced. He did not have the energy to apologize for Paul being... well, Paul.

"I'm worried about Rhys backsliding. With..." Detmer said.

"I'm worried about him backsliding too," Paul said. "He's still my _friend_ ; I'm not going to abandon him."

"He's not your priority."

"Detmer, if you're that worried, why don't you check in with Rhys instead of harassing me when I'm trying to look after my partner?"

Hugh could feel the beginning of a headache behind his eyes and his knees started shaking.

Tilly and Burnham approached them.

"Keyla," Burnham said, touching her elbow.

"Doctor Culber?" Tilly said, softly. "Want to come sit over here?" She placed a gentle hand and on his bicep.

Hugh tried to catch Paul's eye. Paul's eyes never left Detmer, but he squeezed Hugh's hand and then pushed it towards Tilly. Without letting go. Permission, then, not a request.

Detmer glared at Burnham. "Stay out of this, Michael, Rhys is my friend and..."

Hugh didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Detmer was believing the rumors? _Detmer_?

"Doctor Culber? You're looking kind of pale," Tilly said, frowning.

Yeah, Hugh was feeling a little bloodless in the face.

"One second." Hugh pulled away from Tilly, took Paul's face in his hands, and kissed him, softly, briefly on the lips.

In the middle of the mess hall wasn't exactly against protocol, but it did earn him a couple of stares and a low whistle. 

Tilly put her hand back on his bicep and lead him to a table. "You want me to grab you something?"

"I..." He hesitated, looking around as if the words were written somewhere.

"Would the conference room down the hall be better?" Tilly asked.

Hugh looked over at Paul, who was very clearly snarking at Detmer (who deserved it--Hugh was pretty sure), but he couldn't hear.

"Want water?" Tilly asked. "I could use some water."

"OK," Hugh said.

Tilly stood, heading for the food synthesizers.

She came back with a tray with two glasses of water and a bowl of popcorn.

Hugh looked at her for a long moment, then burst out laughing.

"Want some?" Tilly asked, offering the bowl.

Hugh took a handful of popcorn, feeling a little hesitant. "Do you have any idea what that's about?"

"Detmer's been concerned about this accountability buddy thing all along, and I guess now she has a good reason?"

Hugh covered his face with his hands.

"I didn't mean... G-d, I'm sorry, I just can't keep my foot out of my mouth today."

"You're fine, Tilly. It's everyone else who isn't Paul who's getting to me."

Paul's hand landed on Hugh's shoulder, massaging it gently. "Can you please uncover your face?"

Hugh did.

Paul leaned down and kissed him tenderly. Hugh brought his hand up to Paul's face, stroking it gently.

Paul pulled away, staying close for a moment. "Think we've put on enough of a show for the gossip mill now, dear doctor?"

Hugh blushed. "Sorry."

Paul rubbed his shoulder. "Detmer just doesn't like me. It's fine."

"I'd ask what you did, but I'm sure it's hard for you to narrow down," Hugh teased.

"You need something more nutritious than that." Paul gestured at Tilly's popcorn. "Just what are you up to, Ensign?"

Tilly had the grace to blush, but didn't say anything.

"What is Detmer's problem?" Hugh asked.

Paul shrugs. "She likes Rhys and... well, let's face it, I'm an acquired taste. You sit here, I'll grab us some dinner. What would you like eat?"

"Whatever Price instructed you to feed me so that we don't argue."

Paul kissed the top of Hugh's head and then walked off chuckling.

Tilly just stared.

"What is it Tilly?"

Tilly flushed again. "I just hope I find someone who loves me half as much as Stamets loves you."

Awww, _Tilly_. "You hold out for someone who loves you just as much," Hugh said. "You deserve that."

Tilly flushed.

"So what's new?" Hugh asked. "Besides the pips, I mean."

"I'm on the command track!" Tilly said proudly.

"That's my girl," Hugh said, holding up a hand for Tilly to high five.

She did, with slightly more vigor than he was expecting. He winced.

"Too hard?" she asked, flushing.

"A little." Hugh sighed. "Every time I think it's finally better..."

"Give yourself time; it hasn't even been two days."

Yeah, but the thought of making love with Paul shouldn't make him wince.

"So the command track," Hugh said, not really wanting to talk about his oversensitive nerve endings. 

"It's really cool!" Tilly said. "The interpersonal stuff is fascinating and I'm getting to learn about the other ship's departments and..."

Hugh was so engrossed in Tilly's enthusiasm that he barely registered Paul setting dinner in front of him.

* * *

Hugh was smiling when he and Paul got back their quarters later that evening. He had his partner by the hand, his friends were happy to see him.

Then the doors closed behind them and... Hugh felt... 

He wandered to the replicator, but it was empty.

"I put the lube in the nightstand while you were asleep," Paul said, softly.

"Thanks for marking which one, but glitter font?" Hugh asked.

Paul shrugged. "Can I blame the network?"

Hugh chuckled. "I suppose." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"I'm not in a huge rush to use it, really." Paul spilled onto the couch. "I'd rather spend the night cuddling then have to stop in the middle of something more."

Hugh sighed with relief and flopped on the couch next to Paul. "We're on the same page. I thought Tilly high fiving me would be OK and it hurt like a stubbed toe."

"Ow." Paul winced.

Hugh wrapped an arm around Paul's shoulders, drawing him close. "That doesn't mean you get to be so far away."

Paul chuckled, drawing Hugh into his arms. "Do we need to talk about Rhys more?"

"Hmm?" Hugh asked.

"You were pretty territorial back in the mess hall." Paul stroked Hugh's hair.

"That was strictly for the gossip mill's benefit," Hugh said. "Thanks for the followup by the way."

Paul responded by kissing him, soft and tender. Slow. It was a few minutes before they came up for air.

"You're just so _kissable_ ," Paul said.

Hugh smiled.

"I missed you."

Hugh reached up, cupping Paul's face. "I.... remember Tyler, and then being the one to tell you I died..."

Paul gasped. "That was real? I was starting to wonder if it was a dream."

"No," Hugh said, "I... wanted to offer you what comfort I could..."

"Did I really show you..."

"All the time," Hugh said, softly. "I meant every word."

"Me too." Paul leaned his head in, resting his nose on Hugh's forehead. "I love you, so much. I..."

Hugh kissed him, softly. "I love you too."

Paul exhaled, leaning his head back against Hugh's. "You were saying before I rudely interrupted?"

Hugh closed his eyes for a second. "And then... I helped you get the ship back and then... things get blurry until I woke up in sickbay and everything was different."

Paul absently stroked Hugh's back with his thumb, not saying anything.

"I feel like everything just... moved on without me."

"It did, and it _sucked_ ," Paul said. "And not in the fun way either."

Hugh spluttered.

"Sorry."

"You want me to?" Hugh asked. "I probably could manage...."

"Not while you're not up to me returning the favor." Paul said, flattening his hand and moving it in circles on Hugh's back.

"Mmm." Hugh leaned into Paul's embrace, closing his eyes.

"You'll tell me if it gets to be too much, right?" Paul asked, sliding his hand up to Hugh's shoulder and down his arm.

"Yes, but right now it's just right," Hugh replied. He was melting into Paul.

Paul smiled against him. "OK."

"I feel like you've been getting the short end of the stick today," Hugh said.

"For the last six months I thought I'd never see you again and now you're in my arms." Paul kissed Hugh's temple. "I'm good, dear doctor. I promise."

Hugh kissed him again.

"Mmm," Paul said happily as he pulled away. "That's also really nice."

Hugh smiled, then snuggled into Paul's arms. "So you thought about those zillions of things you wanted to tell me?"

"You still want to hear about Freddy's crush?"

"I thought you said it was a date?" Hugh asked.

"Yeah, but..." Paul cut off as his padd, which was lying on the coffee table in front of them, chimed. He laughed. "Speak of the devil. He says the date went great, but... Argh. The notification went dark."

Hugh was in a better position to reach Paul's padd, so he grabbed it.

"Oh boy. It says 'Grandma said not to call because Uncle Hugh's back and he's exhausted. I want to tell him everything; don't you dare.'"

Hugh laughed. 

"Hard to blame him, isn't it?" Paul said. "I think I'd want to, too."

"Should we call him?" Hugh suggested.

"You up to it, babe?" Paul asked.

"Him, yes, Alexa bawling like Mom did? Not so much."

Paul chuckled, then opened up a text to Freddy. _Can you keep a secret from your mom?_

"Paul you're going to scare him," Hugh chastised.

_What sort of secret? Is Uncle Hugh OK?_

"You see?"

_He's fine, just tired. He wants the low down on your date (and I do too), but he's not up to your mom crying over him right now so..._

_Yeah, I won't tell her we talked._

"I should be worried about this, but I'm not," Hugh said, chuckling.

"Worried?" Paul asked. "About what, me impugning your nephew's honor?"

"My nephew being so ready to lie to his mom," Hugh replied. He reached out, touching a couple controls on Paul's padd.

"And yet you're encouraging it," Paul said.

"Well, since I know you're not going to tell me when you've been asked not to--and mostly it's one of your redeeming qualities, except when...." Hugh trailed off as the call connected. "Hey, Freddy."

"Uncle Hugh!" Freddy smiled, his dark eyes bright.

He favored his mother, with the Culber coloring and dark, curly hair. He had his father's nose, though, poor thing. His shoulders had filled in, and even though he was sitting down, Hugh could tell he'd grown a few inches. Also, the three hairs Paul had mentioned earlier were starting to turn into a respectable five o'clock shadow.

"Grandma said you were exhausted and not to bother you."

"I am tired," Hugh said, wondering, absently, if he was setting a bad example by using his partner for a pillow in front of his nephew, "but Paul was about to tell me about this guy and you forbade him so..."

Freddy had the grace to blush. "He's amazing! He's on the student council and he's better at physics than me..."

"What?" Paul and Hugh asked at once.

"Beat me at the science fair," Freddy said. "He did a project using basically a smart phone to listen for background radiation and picked up encoded Klingon transmissions..."

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

Hugh woke in the middle of the night, snuggled comfortably in Paul's arms. It was unusual for them to stay still all night, but given the circumstances...Hugh wouldn't have minded, but he really needed to use the bathroom. It was a little tricky, but he managed to gently unwind Paul's arms, sit up slowly, and slide out of bed without waking him.

He went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

He walked out a few minutes later and had to close his eyes against the brightness of the overhead lights.

"Hugh!"

Before Hugh could register anything, he had a bawling Paul in his arms.

"Computer, lights to fifty percent." Hugh blinked as they went down. Once he wasn't in pain. "Paul?"

Paul didn't say anything for a moment, just clung to him.

"Babe?" Hugh asked, rubbing Paul's back. "What's wrong?"

Paul sobbed.

"Hey, come on." Hugh gently manhandled Paul back to the bed, sat, and then pulled his sobbing partner into his arms. "What's wrong? You were sound asleep when I went to the bathroom two minutes ago."

"I woke up and you weren't there and I thought the last two days were the best dream I had in six months and..."

Hugh leaned back against the pillow, pulling Paul with him and holding him tight. "No, hey. I'm right here. I just really needed the bathroom is all. I'm sorry I didn't...."

"It's hardly your fault I'm still a mess," Paul replied.

"It kinda is?" Hugh said.

Paul started to pull away, still sniffling.

Hugh tightened his arms. "Hey, no, stop crying first." He kissed Paul's temple.

"I need the bathroom too," Paul sobbed.

Hugh let go, letting Paul up. He closed his eyes, trying to think. What would help Paul not panic like that?

What if...

"I'm sorry." Paul climbed back into bed. He moved to wrap his arms around Hugh.

"I think it might be your turn to be the little spoon," Hugh said softly.

Paul frowned, and Hugh for a moment thought he was about to get a big line of snark, but instead, "OK."

Paul sounded small, defeated. He turned on his side so that his back was to Hugh. 

Hugh snuggled next to him, wrapping his arms around Paul. "I'm really here. This is real. What if we used the night shift program? Then it'll be obvious when the bathroom door is closed?"

"Or I could not be an idiot and actually check."

Hugh snorted. "You're not an idiot. Computer, light program Stamets One. You've been through hell."

"You died."

"I barely remember that," Hugh said. "It's everything else that's getting to me. Which doesn't mean that your feelings aren't important. What's going on in that big head of yours?"

Paul leaned back against Hugh. "I'm just... kind of overwhelmed, I guess? I mean you're back, but you're hurting, there was the test, and I'm trying not to abandon Rhys, I really am, but you're my priority and Detmer was being difficult.... I am so, so glad you're back. Being in your arms feels so good. I've also been living on my own for six months and just... little things. Wanting to stay up when you really needed to go to sleep..."

"You could've put up the privacy screen if you wanted to read..."

"Then I couldn't hold you; I wanted to hold you. It's just... I was halfway adjusted to losing you and now you're back and for you it's been, what a day? For me it's been six months. And there's all these things you need to know, and I just... Now that the super important stuff is out of the way, I don't even know where to start. I want to help you catch up, I'm going to, I--" Paul sighed. "I am so afraid I'm going to wake up and find out it was all a dream and you're not back and I have to go back to mourning you and having to move on and damnit, I never wanted to. I wanted the whole world to just stop and it wouldn't and..." Paul stopped, took a deep breath. "This is getting pretty heavy for 3 AM."

"You just grabbed me crying, babe," Hugh said.

Paul twisted so they were face to face and buried his head in Hugh's neck. "Don't get me wrong--I know we'll get through this, but the work I have to do just did a 180 degree turn and I'm kind of overwhelmed."

Hugh rested his chin on Paul's shoulder. "I'm here; I'm right here. You're right, we'll get through this. You're not alone in this anymore, babe."

Paul clung tightly for a few minutes. "This is probably not a comfortable way to sleep," he said after a couple of minutes. "Should probably move."

Hugh rolled onto his back, pulling Paul along with him into his arms. "Better?"

"Yeah." Paul settled his ear against Hugh's chest. "Thank you."

"Always." Hugh ran a gentle hand through Paul's hair.

Paul shifted a little, his ear ending up against Hugh's heart. He started softly melting into Hugh's arms.

"Won't my heartbeat keep you up?" Hugh rested his hand on the back of Paul's head.

"It's the most comforting sound in the world right now, dear doctor."

Hugh rubbed at the tears forming in his eyes, then rested his arms around Paul again, holding him a little tighter than strictly necessary.

"Hugh?" Paul asked. "Your heart skipped a beat."

"It did not. That's just an expression."

"Fine. Why are you crying?" Paul reached up, gently rubbing away more tears from Hugh's eyes.

"I hurt you."

Paul sat up.

Hugh reached out, trying to pull him back.

"Wait a second. Look at me."

Hugh looked into Paul's eyes.

"This is not your fault, OK? It's _Voq's fault_. He's the one who..." Paul rubbed the bridge of his nose. "He's the one who murdered you. He's the one who hurt me. Not you, OK? You would never hurt me." Paul cupped Hugh's face in his hands. "Got it?"

"Got it," Hugh said quietly.

Paul lay back down next to Hugh and tried to pull him close. Hugh thought about telling Paul to go back to listening to his heart again, but Paul was in stubborn mode, so instead he let Paul pull him close and wrap his arms around him. Paul started gently stroking one of Hugh's wrists. No, searching.

Hugh chuckled, reaching with his other hand to help Paul find his pulse. "You sure you don't want to lay on my chest again?"

"Given that last time you had to get up after a couple minutes..."

"My corticosteroid and neurotransmitter levels are dropping...."

"Let's save that experiment for the morning, dear doctor. I'm supposed to make sure you rest."

Hugh chuckled as Paul snuggled closer to him. "Ok. Sweet dreams."

"Can't be as sweet as having you back." Paul kissed Hugh's temple and stilled beside him.

Hugh closed his eyes, listening to the soft sounds of Paul's breathing as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Hugh woke up the next morning still nestled in Paul's arms. He never knew how he knew, because there was no change in the lighting in crew quarters during ship's day, but somehow he could tell it was morning.

"Computer, time?"

"Oh-nine-thirty."

Hugh turned and gently placed a kiss on Paul's lips. Paul's eyes jumped open and then he relaxed.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

Paul smiled, shaking his head. "It's been too long since you woke me up that way is all."

"It's 09:30, what time is your shift?"

"Not today." Paul gently ran a finger down Hugh's arm.

"Excuse me?"

Paul stroked Hugh's face. "I took the day off."

Hugh blinked. "Are you OK?"

Paul smiled. "Never better. Should we go to breakfast?"

Hugh languidly ran the back of his finger along Paul's arm, smiling as Paul shuddered at the touch. "I believe you said something about holding me tight and..."

Paul swallowed. "Breakfast first."

Hugh played with the hem of Paul's shirt. "You sure?"

Paul climbed out of bed. "Don't think I'm not sorely tempted, but I just got you back, I don't want to lose you because I'm dumb enough not to make you eat properly."

Hugh stood up. "I'm not that malnourished."

Paul's stomach rumbled.

"You could just tell me you were hungry, you know?" Hugh said.

Paul scrubbed a hand over his face, muttering something into it.

Hugh stood. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that."

"Why can't we just have food replicators in our quarters?"

Hugh chuckled. "You um, want me to grab some food while you..."

He couldn't finish because Paul had crossed the distance between them and kissed him breathless.

"Breakfast?" Hugh asked, when they came up for air.

"Later." Paul slid his hand under Hugh's shirt, rubbing his back. 

Hugh grinned, wrapping his arms around Paul. "So hold me tight and..."

"Make you come undone." Paul leaned up, kissing Hugh's lips.

Hugh pulled away, just a little. "Sounds perfect."

* * *

Later, spent, they snuggled together under the covers.

"We should probably think about food," Hugh said.

Paul shifted a little, laying his head against Hugh's chest. "In a bit." He wrapped his arms around Hugh's chest and back, pressing his body against Hugh's.

Hugh sighed contentedly.

"I forgot how good this felt," Paul said.

"We were just..."

"Your skin against mine." Paul turned his mouth, gently kissing Hugh's bare chest. "Just... being this close to you."

Hugh squeezed Paul a little closer, kissing his brow. He ran his hand down Paul's back, searching for words.

"I love you, Hugh."

"I love you, too."

Hugh closed his eyes, allowing himself a few more minutes to bask in Paul's touch.

* * *

By the time they finally made it to the mess hall, it was more time for lunch than breakfast. Hugh wasn't sure which of them suggested bringing dinner back in thermal containers, but he was glad.

They certainly couldn't snuggle in their boxers (safety first) on the couch while eating burritos in the mess hall. (The handheld food was one of Paul's better ideas.)

"I swear when I took the day off, I wasn't planning on spending it in bed with you," Paul said between bites.

"I think you needed that mid-afternoon nap as much as I did." Hugh ran his hand from where it was resting on Paul's shoulder down to his wrist. "Besides, do I sound like I'm complaining?"

Paul chuckled, leaning into Hugh's chest. "No, but I'm surprised our bodies are cooperating."

Hugh kissed his brow. "Shh. Don't jinx it."

Paul chuckled again, then took another bite.

Hugh took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. Millions of questions were swirling in his head.

Paul had been... scattered was a good word. Flitting from topic to topic (when they were talking anyway) with little depth. Which left Hugh with a lot of questions and as little idea where to start as Paul had.

He realized that in their relationship, despite the year and a half of long distance, they'd never gone more than a couple of days without speaking before. Six months was a record he hoped never to break.

Paul wriggled against him.

"You OK?"

"Just..." Paul trailed off.

Hugh leaned his head against Paul's face. "Just... What? I mean, can I finish eating before we..."

"Yeah, of course. I..." Paul sighed.

"You want to get on your padd and check something at work, don't you?"

"No. Well, yes. Just if I have any texts"

Hugh chuckled. "Can't wait for the data?"

"What? No, no. I mean an in an emergency, but if it was urgent I'd have been paged. Mostly I just want to check and make sure no one's texted me that Rhys forgot to eat. I mean, I delegated stuff today but...."

Hugh chuckled nervously. He wanted to what?

"I've been responsible for helping him for three months." Paul stood, walked over to the table where his padd was resting. "I guess some habits are..." He burst out laughing.

Hugh's stomach twisted. "What?"

"Rhys wants to know if I've eaten all day," Paul said. "I guess I'm not the only one." He typed something into the padd.

Hugh watched, trying to sort out the pit of his stomach.

Paul put the padd down, returning to Hugh's side. "All yours."

"You sure?" the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Paul stared for a minute, color slowly draining from his face. "I... just realized how that must've looked. I'm sorry. I told you before, it's not like that."

Hugh stood. 

"Hugh..."

"This isn't a naked conversation," Hugh replied. He fished the pants he'd worn to lunch off of the floor and pulled them on over his boxers, following that with his shirt.

Paul was still sitting on the couch, jaw open.

Hugh grabbed Paul's uniform pants and undershirt off the floor, walked back to the couch and threw them into Paul's chest.

He was surprised when Paul pulled them on without complaint.

Paul then sat on the couch, watching Hugh patiently.

"What?"

"You wanted to talk; talk," Paul said.

Hugh just stared.

"You never got upset when I messaged Straal..."

"About work, not about your eating habits."

Paul rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"You get the difference, right?"

"Not when I have written orders from the captain making Rhys's well being my responsibility."

"Burgis never...."

"Had to deal with a stubborn son of a bitch like me before?" Paul asked. "I'm allowed to delegate, but it's still my ultimate responsibility. He's my friend _now_ , but it was... part of the job first? Which is why I didn't really think much of what it might've looked like on your end.

"Especially since you seemed to trust me..."

"I trust you, but everything's...." Hugh sighed. "You made a new friend, there's like 100 terabytes of medical records for me to catch up on, Burnham's a commander, Tilly's an ensign and... you're freaking checking your texts from some guy I've met maybe twice while we're in a very intimate setting and it just..." Hugh trailed off, suddenly out of steam.

"Killed the mood?" Paul asked. "Like the idiot I am?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Hugh saw Paul's padd light up with a notification.

"You have a text."

"Don't change the subject."

"You don't want to..."

"Like I said, if it was urgent, I'd be paged. Rhys said he was at dinner, so whatever else that is can wait. Sit for a minute, please?"

Hugh sat on the other end of the couch from Paul, tucking his knees into his chest.

"OK, so what I thought I heard before I made an ill advised joke is that you're uncomfortable because you don't really know Rhys?"

"Paul, we were cuddling in the afterglow in our underwear and..."

"...one of my worst habits has always been checking my messages at times like that. You were joking about it when you thought it was work..."

"Because that's not..." Hugh sighed. "We're arguing in circles."

"I'm sorry," Paul said. "I wasn't thinking." He scrubbed his face with his hand. "Couldn't even have you home twenty four hours before being a bad partner again."

Hugh sighed. He was mad, he wanted to snap, but Paul just looked so guilty and defeated he couldn't quite bring himself to do so. "Is that why you took off today? To be a better partner?"

Paul blinked. "I didn't want to leave you. Also, you needed me."

Hugh smiled. "I did."

Paul smiled back, tentatively.

Except there was a question gnawing Hugh's gut, and he should leave it alone, but....

"And if Rhys hadn't eaten?"

Paul sighed. "He's really been struggling lately. Detmer wasn't just trying to be difficult last night--I mean, she was being difficult but--that thing where I crashed on his couch? It was four days ago... no five... I'm little mixed up on days, but it hasn't even been a week."

Hugh took a breath, but Paul held up a hand.

"When you..." Paul paused. "When you were gone, it was like... We had our friends and your friends, and even our friends were mostly your friends. Collins and Kaminsky were outright avoiding me for awhile, and we still barely speak. I had Burnham and Tilly, but that was kind of awkward and I felt abandoned in some ways."

"I didn't mean..."

"Not by you. By everyone else. Like they were afraid losing your partner was contagious or something. I won't do that to Pete. You're my partner. You're the one I love and you're my priority. However, if I lost focus for too long and I lost him too I'd never forgive myself."

"You've lost a lot of people, lately." And Straal, for one, wouldn't be back.

"Yeah and by some.... miracle I got you back. That's not going to happen again." Paul sighed, drawing his knees to his chest.

"I'm not used to this. You having friends I don't know." Hugh paused, searching for the right words.

"It's..."

"Paul, it's _healthy_ for you to have other friends, but it's new, and it's out of nowhere."

"It's been six months, and it's not out of nowhere, it was like climbing a mountain and I finally see the other side and..." Paul trailed off. "You've been gone, and it wasn't your fault, but it's going to take time and I'm trying very hard to be patient with you."

"Very successfully," Hugh added.

"But I need you to be patient with me too." Paul paused... "And with yourself."

Hugh raised an eyebrow.

"You were pushing too hard yesterday, and you're worried about all those files you have to read. Hugh, you have six months to catch up on, it's going to take time. You need to let yourself take it."

"OK," Hugh said softly.

"You OK?"

"I think I need a little space to process all that."

"Sure." Paul stood, grabbed his padd, and headed for the bed.

"Paul?"

"Hmm?"

"Maybe not quite that much space."

Paul smiled and returned to the other end of the couch. "Better?"

"Yeah."

Paul opened something on his padd and settled into the couch.

Hugh surveyed him, trying to turn things over in his mind. He wanted Paul to have friends--that he had a gaming group was mind boggling to be honest. (He wasn't sure if he was looking forward to or dreading being sworn to secrecy whatever that meant.) Intellectually, he knew that Paul should have friends, his own friends even, but the thought of his Paul being close to people he barely knew...

Oh. Hey.

"You're right, part of my problem is I don't know him."

"We can fix that," Paul said.

Hugh wanted to but... "Strangers are a little hard right now. And you..."

"It's been six months, I've changed and you haven't been here to see it."

"Yeah."

Paul set down the padd "What can I do right now?"

A million things rattled around in Hugh's brain, but he wasn't sure where to start. No, he really did. "Hold me." He scooted down the couch and snuggled into Paul's waiting arms.

Paul kissed him softly on the lips. "I love you."

Hugh smiled. This was a thing he shouldn't get used to. This was Paul being glad to have him back, but he'd take it. "I love you too."

* * *

Hugh woke the next morning to the gentle pressure of Paul's lips against his own. He reached out, pulling Paul close and deepening the kiss.

Paul gently ran a finger down the skin of Hugh's back. Then pulled away. "I'm on shift in an hour. You want to join me for breakfast?"

"Stay with me." Hugh wrapped his arms tighter, pulling Paul back towards the bed.

"Do you want me to use all my leave up?" Paul asked. "I will if you want me to, but you might not like the consequences."

"Damn." Hugh sighed, opening his eyes.

"So, breakfast?" Paul asked. "Or do you want to go back to sleep?"

Hugh stood. "Would you hate me if I came back and napped after breakfast?"

"I could never hate you." Paul kissed him. "You're on medical leave, might as well enjoy it."

Hugh would rather enjoy it with Paul next to him, but Paul had taken essentially two days to be with him, and Paul was right--he only had so much leave. "I'll get dressed."

* * *

Hugh took a deep breath, checking his uniform. Pressed perfect. OK.

He hit the bell on the Captain's ready room. Price had sworn this interview was _pro forma_ , but he was still nervous.

"Come."

Hugh entered, pulling himself to perfect attention. "Dr. Hugh Culber, sir, you asked to see me?"

He'd only been in the Captain's ready room once before, and that was under Lorca's regime. Maybe it was just all he'd heard about Lorca's true nature since he'd been back, but this time it seemed a little brighter. Slightly safer. Yet nothing much had changed besides the IDIC hanging on the wall and the lack of fortune cookies on the desk.

Captain T'Plona looked up from her padd, her blue eyes piercing as she inspected him. "Have a seat, Dr. Culber." She gestured to the chair on the other side of the desk.

Hugh sat.

T'Plona frowned. "You transferred in shortly after Captain Lorca took command, is that correct?"

"Yes, sir."

Her eyes narrowed. "May I ask why?"

"Because Lt.... excuse me, because _Commander_ Stamets had been assigned here."

She raised an eyebrow. "This was a lateral move when you were due for a promotion."

"Yes, sir."

"Why?"

"I already told you. Commander Stamets was coming here, so here was where I wanted to be." Hugh inhaled sharply through his nose; he understood Vulcans didn't really make career decisions for love, but was it so hard to understand that humans did?

"There was no other reason? Did Lorca offer you something?" Her eyes grew narrower, like she was trying to see into his soul.

"No, sir." Hugh paused. "Permission to speak freely, Captain?"

"By all means."

"I may not have still been here when it was revealed that Captain Lorca wasn't who he appeared to be, but I never trusted the man. There was always something.... off about him. Of course, most of my direct interactions with him involved him trying to get my partner to be a reckless idiot, so I might be a little biased."

The Captain raised an eyebrow. "You didn't like him?"

"No."

"Noted." She leaned back in her seat, picking up her padd. "This does bring me to the other thing I wish to discuss. Commander Stamets had requested that you be named to the spore jump committee as his advocate."

Hugh shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, sir. It was my understanding that Dr. Price was going to approve that."

"I get the final say so, Doctor. Two questions: the first is could you live with yourself if you approved a jump and something went wrong?"

"Better than if someone else had approved it," Hugh replied.

Her eyes narrowed again. "Can you base your decisions on logic, not emotion?"

"I'll always have data to back up my medical opinion, Captain."

She raised an eyebrow at that, sizing him up with her eyes.

"Very well, I will approve the change, and your reinstatement. Welcome back, Doctor. It is my understanding that Dr. Price is glad to have you back. Thank you for coming. Oh, and you should know that your request for use of the kitchen following the next shore leave has been approved."

Shouldn't that have been Saru's department?

"Thank you, sir." Hugh stood.

"Dismissed."

Hugh left the ready room, breathing a giant sigh of relief once the doors were closed behind him. He felt eyes on him and saw Rhys watching him warily from the tactical station.

It was disturbing, that Rhys seemed frightened of him--Paul said there was nothing to worry about, so why did Rhys seem to think that Hugh didn't like him?

And now Detmer was giving him the stink eye. Great.

Hugh debated going over to talk to Rhys, but the questioning look that Saru shot him made that a bad idea. Instead he nodded to the first officer and headed to the turbolift.

He could still feel Rhys's eyes on him. 

Hugh wondered if his unscheduled trip the bridge had meant he'd missed a text from Paul.

"Did you eat, Rhys?" Hugh asked. He was supposed to be meeting Paul and...

Bryce ducked his head into his station, his shoulders shaking.

Detmer turned back to her station.

Rhys frowned. "No?"

"Come on." Hugh cocked his head towards the turbolift door.

"I...."

"Lieutenant, we've been through this, take your lunch." Saru hit some buttons on the padd he was reading, not bothering to look up.

Hugh had the funny feeling that the looks from the bridge crew may have been because they had assumed Paul had delegated dragging Rhys to lunch to him. (Or maybe Tilly had already put him on the rota and forgotten to tell him? Unlikely.)

"Yes sir." Rhys stood, joining Hugh at the turbolift.

The doors opened and they stepped on.

The doors closed.

"Mess hall," Hugh said after a moment.

Rhys just stared at the closed doors.

"Are you OK?" Hugh asked.

"Fine."

"Did Paul talk to you about dinner in a couple days? The Captain just told me I got the kitchen."

Rhys just turned, staring.

"Nice to see some things haven't changed." Hugh rolled his eyes. "He was supposed to."

"No, he mentioned it, I just..." Rhys trailed off. "I don't know, thought it was one of those things people say when they don't follow through." He shrugged.

"So you're coming?"

"If it's not an imposition..." Rhys shuffled his feet.

Seriously, why was he so nervous? "Paul mentioned Tilly and Burnham are coming too?"

"Yeah, but they're you're friends."

Hugh blinked. "I want you to be my friend too. Or did Paul not mention the part where I'd like to get to know you?"

Rhys shrugged.

"Why are you so threatened by me?" Hugh asked.

Rhys crossed his arms. "I'm not threatened."

Hugh tilted his head, narrowing his eyes.

"I'm not threatened; I'm _scared_. Paul's my friend because we'd both lost someone and..."

Hugh stared.

"What?"

Hugh sighed, he was going to _brain_ Paul. "He... he really hasn't talked to you?"

"He's been a little busy," Rhys said curtly.

Hugh sighed.

Rhys pushed his palms against his eyelids. "That came out wrong. I'm making a mess of this. No, I'm just a mess."

The turbolift door opened. Hugh stepped out onto the deck and was gratified to find Paul waiting in the hallway.

"Hey," Paul said. "What did the Captain want?"

"She wanted to know why I transferred to Discovery. Seems she was afraid I was in Lorca's pocket."

Paul and Rhys both laughed, though Rhys's accompanying smile didn't reach his eyes.

"Thanks for wrangling Pete for me," Paul said.

Rhys rolled his eyes. "I didn't need..."

"Saru practically ordered you to come with me," Hugh pointed out.

Paul squeezed Rhys's shoulder. "Come on, man, join us for lunch."

"I don't want to impose."

"You're not imposing," Hugh and Paul said at once.

Rhys tossed Hugh a dubious look.

Hugh smiled, thinly. "I really am serious about getting to know you better." He almost wanted to tell Rhys not to worry about earlier but... no, Paul would probably decide to make lunch even more awkward than it was going to be already. "Honestly."

"OK," Rhys said, heading for the mess hall.

Paul and Hugh fell into step; Paul reached for Hugh's hand. Hugh took his hand, but could see the way Rhys's eyes drifted to their hands. Hugh squeezed Paul's hand and then started to pull away. Paul tightened his grip, narrowing his eyes at Hugh.

Hugh's eyes shot towards Rhys and then back to Paul. Hugh prayed that once, just once, Paul could pick up a subtle hint.

As if by magic, Paul gave Hugh's hand another squeeze and then dropped it, clapping Rhys on his shoulder. "What's going on?"

Hugh followed them towards the food synthesizers, only regretting dropping Paul's hand a little bit.

* * *

Hugh settled into his seat, mixing his stir fry. "So besides this thing I need to be sworn to secrecy for, what do you for fun Rhys?"

"Speaking of that, Bryce wanted me to ask if tonight straight after dinner was good to swear you in?" Rhys asked.

Hugh glanced at Paul, who just nodded. "Yeah, OK."

"Don't worry, dear doctor, it doesn't hurt." Paul squeezed his shoulder.

Hugh just looked from Paul to Rhys, trying to figure out how humiliating it was going to be.

"So, other hobbies?" Hugh prompted, anxious to change the subject.

Rhys squirmed.

"Oh tell him." Paul was grinning.

"I'm kind of a weird history buff. Right now I'm reading about all the alien cults that sprung up right after first contact."

"Cults?" Hugh asked.

"Oh some of them were weird," Rhys said. "I mean, there were a couple groups who tried to adopt Vulcan logic, those were fine, but some of the others..."

Hugh stabbed a piece of broccoli. "For example?"

"There was a Denobulan commune..." Rhys shook his head. "I mean, the polyamory was consenting adults, so whatever, but apparently there were illegal experiments on the children trying to give them wider jaws so that they could smile like Denobulans."

Paul shuddered.

"See, DNA manipulation is creepy." Hugh jabbed his fork in Paul's general direction.

"I don't see how that could save anyone's life," Paul shot back.

Rhys looked around the room, probably looking for an exit.

"I take it that cult got broken up?" Hugh asked.

"Well, the parents were arrested for illegal eugenics experiments." Rhys cut the piece of fish he was eating. "I think they got raided a couple of times? There are a lot of records of child welfare hearings after that--I think a lot of people left because of that."

"And not because of the eugenics?" Hugh poked at his food.

"People are _weird_ sometimes. We were at this one planet..." He stopped, setting down his fork. "Wait, Paul, did you tell him about the Rigel 9 incident?"

Paul looked at Hugh. "I'm not sure?"

"I don't think so."

Rhys and Paul started to explain with great gusto.

* * *

After lunch, Rhys headed back for the bridge and Hugh walked with Paul to engineering.

"You OK?" Paul asked once they were alone. "You kept shooting me odd looks..."

"You need to talk to Rhys," Hugh started.

Paul frowned, squeezing Hugh's hand. "He wasn't giving you a rough time, was he?"

Hugh squeezed back. "What? No, but he's pretty concerned about losing your friendship. I'd think you'd want to make things as clear to him as you have to me."

Paul stopped and turned, dropping Hugh's hand. "He's..." Paul stopped. "You're not the person I need to have this conversation with."

"Nope," Hugh said. "I can disappear after Bryce is done with whatever he's up to if you want."

"What? No." Paul shook his head. "I'll walk Pete back to his quarters-there's no reason to kick you out of ours."

Hugh's stomach did a flip flop, but he just said, "OK."

Paul cupped Hugh's face in his palm, stroking Hugh's beard with his thumb. " _You're_ my partner. There's nothing to worry about, I promise."

Hugh leaned into the touch. "I know. Everything's just different."

"You've been gone six months and not even been back six days. Give yourself some time." He paused, running his hand to Hugh's shoulder and down then his arm to his hand. "Would you really be more comfortable taking a walk than me wandering off?"

Hugh steadied himself for a _discussion_. "Yes."

"OK," Paul said.

Hugh blinked. He was... they weren't going to...

Paul kissed his cheek. "What? I don't get it, but if it makes you more comfortable, I'm happy to do it."

Arguing with Paul for not arguing with him would be weird, right?

It was another honeymoon phase thing. He should probably just enjoy it while it lasted, that was all.

"Hugh?"

"Are you OK?" Hugh blurted.

"That was my question." Paul's eyes narrowed, considering.

Hugh scuffed his shoes. "I was expecting that to be a thing."

Paul shrugged. "Life's too short to fight over that."

Who was this person?

Paul reached out, taking Hugh's hand and squeezing it. "Pete's my friend and that's important and I want you to be comfortable with that, so if you ask me to talk to him in our quarters instead why wouldn't I respect that?"

Hugh just blinked. He was looking a gift horse in the mouth and he should stop that.

"Hugh?"

"Are you sure you're OK? You didn't used to..."

"I missed you."

Hugh stepped in, glancing around and then, seeing they were alone, gently running his hands down Paul's arms. "You should know by now I'm not that easy to get rid of."

"I know, dear doctor, but it's past time I stopped trying."

Hugh hugged him. Hard. "I love you. Nothing's going to change that." He wanted to drag Paul to their quarters and show him, but that would have to wait.

"I love you too," Paul said, his voice softening. "I should probably get back to the lab before Tilly decides to test her latest half baked hair brained idea without me."

Hugh chuckled. "Remember not to blow up the ship. We live here."

"Lorca's long gone, why would I do that?" Paul asked.

Hugh chuckled, watching him go. Then he sighed.

He had to go see Counselor Burgis now. He knew it was wise, but he wasn't looking forward to it.

* * *

Hugh sat in the waiting room, frowning over a patient record. He was going to brain Pollard. Airiam was ridiculously sensitive to medications, especially with her augments, why was Pollard playing with the dosages like that? Steinberg had started it, but Pollard hadn't put things back the way he'd left them. Gomez he would've expected to try something like this, because he never listened to patients or other doctors' notes, but Pollard?

"Dr. Culber?" A tall woman with light brown skin stood in the doorway to the treatment room. Her long hair was piled on top of her head in a bun and she wore medical whites.

He jumped, locking his padd. "Hi, yeah, sorry, trying to get caught up on six months of patient records..."

Burgis beckoned him into her office "I can't imagine; sometimes I come back from a week's shore leave and wonder why I bothered because I came back to extra work."

Hugh chuckled. "It might help if this was a voluntary... sabbatical."

"I'll admit that this is new territory for me, Dr. Culber--or would you prefer Hugh?" She sat in a big armchair, indicating for him to take a seat on the couch opposite

He shrugged. "Whichever."

"I'll need you to pick one eventually, just let me know. Anyway, this situation isn't exactly something I was trained for, but one thing I think will be important is that we treat it like any trauma."

"You want me to refer to it as my death." Hugh spilled onto the couch, probably plopping onto it a little harder than strictly necessary.

"Yes."

"OK." He scrubbed his face with the palm of his hand.

"Do you have somewhere you want to start?"

"I haven't even had time to fully process things yet, so I don't know where to start. Anywhere. Nothing makes sense, not even Paul. Well, mostly Paul makes sense but..."

Burgis leaned forward. "How much has he told you about his progress with mourning you?"

"He told me about the suicidal... incident? I gather it didn't get as far as an attempt." Hugh placed his padd next to him, picking up a throw pillow and shuffling between his hands.

"Ideation," Burgis said. "I'm surprised he told you about that already."

"He wanted me to hear it from him, not from someone else; it was the second thing he told me--after the Rhys thing. Which..." Hugh sighed. "I'm proud of him, I am. He went and made a new friend. It's healthy; frankly I was getting worried that his only friend was Straal and Straal was on another ship and then Straal was dead. And then _I_ was dead... and then I wasn't. And somewhere in all that Paul made a new best friend who I only have a passing familiarity with and it is _so strange_. The guy's straight, and when I suggested he and Paul might be more than friends, Paul's exact words were 'Suggest I sleep with Straal why don't you.'"

Burgis's eyes widened.

"Right?" Hugh said. " _But I'm still threatened by it and it's irrational as fuck._ " He paused. "Sorry."

"Believe me, worse things have been said in this office," Burgis said. "I'm glad you recognize that it's an irrational thought, but let's break this down a bit by backing up. How much do you remember of the last six months?"

"I remember talking with Tyler about his... condition. I hadn't actually solved what was done to him, but from what I understand, I came pretty close. And he grabbed me and snapped my neck. I remember..." He paused, choking on the words as he sobbed. "Paul holding my body in his arms and sobbing. Then... we spoke in the network, I tried to comfort him." He took a breath, reigning in the tears a bit. "And... something about Tilly? Then I woke up in sick bay three days ago."

"So for you you were gone, what a few hours, a couple of days?"

"I wasn't really..."

"No, not how long were you actually gone. How long does it feel like you were gone?"

"When I try to think back, maybe a week? Usually less than that. Until I talk to other people. Then it's like the world kind of just... kept moving without me."

"It didn't kind of keep moving without you; it actually did."

Hugh snorted. "That's what Paul said. He sounded affronted."

"Yes, well Commander Stamets can be very astute when he turns his observational skills the right way."

"It's still weird that he's a Lt. Commander now."

"I'm sure. There must be a great many things you're still getting used to."

"He's been so attentive since I've been back." Hugh set the pillow down.

"I hear he actually took a couple days off." Burgis leaned back in her chair.

"Yes." Hugh couldn't help but smile. "The first day was a little awkward, but yesterday we basically locked ourselves in our quarters. Which was... We've never been able to do that before--not here anyway. There was a year and a half when we were long distance where we'd sometimes manage to steal a weekend together. It was nice. And then..." He sighed, telling Burgis about his outburst when Paul had used his padd to text Rhys during dinner the day before.

"I can see why you're finding that relationship a little discomforting."

Hugh scrubbed a hand over his face. "I trust Paul. Paul says there's nothing to worry about. And Rhys..." Hugh outlined the discussion in the turbo lift.

"Have you discussed that with Commander Stamets?"

"Yeah, he's going to talk to Rhys after dinner. I was expecting a discussion because I was going to take a walk so they could have some privacy and Paul wanted to just go to Rhys's quarters and... Paul just said OK when he realized I was uncomfortable. It's... not like him."

Burgis frowned.

"What?"

She shifted uncomfortably. "It might be beneficial if the three of us talked--I think I know what's going on here, but due to privacy concerns...."

"I guess this must be awkward."

"I knew it would come up from time to time when I signed up to be ship's counselor but to be honest, no, it's not one of my favorite parts of the job."

Hugh snorted. "Patients can be the worst thing about the job sometimes."

"Yes, well, getting back to the subject at hand, did you ask Paul why he was so accommodating?"

"Yeah, he said life was too short which...." Hugh trailed off. "It's weird for him."

"Is it so weird? You were dead for six months. I doubt he's made a secret of how much he's been struggling to deal with that."

"It does seem like a silly thing to argue over when you put it that way." Hugh rubbed the back of his neck. "Ugh. I'm having so much trouble with my own shit, I can't always manage to help him with his; when I first got out of sickbay all he wanted was to sleep next to me and I almost didn't give him that."

"Why not?"

"I was so overwhelmed; my senses were too much and I just... felt so out of place. And then Paul just said the most _Paul_ thing ever and... I knew I was home."

"What did he say?"

"At the very least quit arguing with me and take the damn bed."

Burgis chuckled. "That is a very Stamets thing to say, isn't it?"

Hugh smiled. "Yeah. It is."

"I've always wondered why you put up with that?"

Hugh suppressed an eyeroll. Hadn't Paul shown her his redeeming features by now? "Because he's honest about his feelings."

"Why should his feelings about Rhys be any different?"

Hugh didn't have a good answer for that.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

Hugh woke from a nap to the feeling of Paul softly running his fingers through his hair. "What time is it?"

"17:30. I was about to wake you up; we should get to dinner soon."

"How long have you been home?" Hugh asked. It was thirty minutes after shift change and Paul was back?

"About twenty minutes. You were napping, and I figured I'd do my relaxation exercises on the bed and you sort of rolled over into my arms. Not that I'm complaining."

Hugh chuckled, snuggling closer. "Guess I missed you."

"I know I did," Paul said, softly, letting his fingers drop from Hugh's hair to trace the outline of his jaw.

Hugh leaned up, kissing Paul softly. They broke apart, and Paul rubbed his thumb along Hugh's beard.

"How did it go with Burgis?"

Hugh sighed.

"She does like to make your head spin," Paul said. "It usually helps though. Or sometimes I'd just want to come back here and cry."

Hugh pecked Paul's cheek, wondering if he could retroactively kiss the tears away. "She said a joint session might be a good idea."

"You don't sound convinced."

Hugh leaned into Paul's shoulder, but didn't say anything.

"I'll do it if you ask me to," Paul whispered.

Maybe Hugh should ask. Or just ask why Paul was being so damn _agreeable_.

"You can tell me anything," Paul added.

"I know." Hugh slid his hand into Paul's hair, working out a stray knot. "You can tell me anything too." Like why you're acting so out of character.

"I know."

The sat for a minute, looking in each other's eyes.

Neither spoke.

"I should probably run a comb through my hair before dinner." Paul got up, heading for the bathroom.

Hugh scrubbed a hand over his face. He knew he had to be patient. Paul would talk to him when he was ready, and not a moment before.

* * *

Hugh let Paul lead him into the mess hall, too busy enjoying the sensation of Paul's fingers between his own to pay much attention to anything else other than not bumping into things.

They got in line for the food synthesizers. Paul was focused on the line, stiff as a board. Hugh frowned, and then realized. 

"Rhys is over there," Hugh pointed to where Rhys was sitting with Tilly, Airiam, and Burnham.

"Oh, good," Paul said, the tension leaving his body.

A hand placed in the junction between Hugh's neck and his shoulder caused him to jump and jerk away, dashing towards the wall, pulling Paul along with him. Paul crashed into him, barely avoiding a collision with the wall, mostly because Hugh pulled him close reflexively. (He was kind of sad they were in the mess hall, because he had to let Paul go.)

And he had the topic of his next session with Burgis, apparently.

"Damnit, Bryce, don't sneak up on people like that!" Paul grouched. "Especially when they don't know you that well--I just got Hugh back and I'll thank you to not give him a heart attack."

Hugh straightened up, feeling the blood rushing to his cheeks. Paul had stepped in front of him, giving Hugh a great view of the blush creeping into the back of his neck.

"Sorry." Bryce held up his hands in an "I'm harmless" gesture. "I should've known better."

"I..." Hugh stopped as Paul laid a hand on his bicep.

"Yes, Bryce, you should have. _Think_."

"Paul." Hugh said, softly.

"It's OK, Dr. Culber, I speak Stamets by now." Bryce shrugged. "And he's got a point. I won't sneak up on you again."

"Thank you; I appreciate that." What. The Sam Hell. Had he missed?

"Anyway, we all set?" Bryce asked. He rubbed his beard with his hands.

"Yeah, our quarters, after dinner," Paul said. "Presuming you don't make another attempt on my partner's life."

"Paul, I'm fine." Hugh took Paul's hand and squeezed it. "He startled me; he didn't hurt me."

"He shouldn't be touching your neck. No one else should be..." Paul trailed off as Hugh laid a hand on his shoulder.

Apparently Hugh wasn't the only one who needed to talk to Burgis about this.

Hugh noticed people were starting to stare. "Do we need to take this to the conference room?"

Paul looked around, also feeling their eyes. Rhys had stood up, and was eying the situation intently.

"No, no, it's fine." Paul deflated.

Bryce looked from one to the other of them. "I'm sorry."

Someone behind them coughed--there was an open food synthesizer and they were next.

Paul made a sweeping 'after you' gesture and Bryce went up to place his order.

* * *

A whole damn retinue followed them back to their quarters.

He had looked at Paul in the turbolift, but Paul had just taken his hand and smiled. Hugh had the vague notion of a group of friends wanting to vet someone's new partner which... felt weird, he guessed. He'd been expecting Paul, Rhys, and Bryce. In retrospect, Tam would've been an obvious addition--he hadn't had a chance to catch up with her yet (maybe he could fix that while Paul and Rhys talked.) Airiam he hadn't been expecting at all.

They stepped off of the turbolift and Airiam staggered. 

Hugh reached out to catch her, but Bryce beat him to it, almost as if he'd been expecting it.

"Are we going to have to frog march you to sickbay?" Bryce asked. "This is ridiculous."

"I made an appointment to see Dr. Culber when he's back next week," Airiam said, shrugging off Bryce's protective arms. "I don't like what Dr. Pollard's been doing."

"Me neither," Hugh agreed. "I'm glad to hear you have an appointment--this way I don't have call you in." Besides fixing her meds, they'd have a talk about self-advocating when necessary, but he wasn't going to say that in front of everyone.

Paul raised an eyebrow. 

"I've started reading patient files," Hugh told Paul. "That said, Airiam, would you rather I go up there with you now? Or when we're finished? I'm not above brow beating whoever is on duty into doing something if you don't want to wait."

"I'm OK; thank you," Airiam said, softly.

"Airiam." Bryce crossed his arms.

"I'm OK. Thank you."

"But..." Tam started

Hugh held up a hand, shaking his head. "So are you guys going to come embarrass me or what?"

Airiam shot him a shy, grateful smile.

Paul looped his arm through Hugh's. "I wouldn't let them embarrass you, dear doctor."

They reached their quarters, and Hugh palmed open the door waving the others inside.

Rhys plopped onto the couch, but the others looked around, taking in their quarters. It was somehow a relief that only Rhys had been there before.

"Have a seat," Hugh said.

"We don't stand on ceremony in our quarters," Paul added.

Well, Hugh kind of did, but Paul was.... doing the best he could given he'd basically had his arm twisted into joining Starfleet. Airiam and Tam joined Rhys on the couch. Bryce stood next to Hugh, grinning as he reached into his pocket.

"Have a seat, Stamets." Bryce said. "You're going to get in the way."

Paul stepped away, letting his hand stay in Hugh's own until he could no longer hold on. Then he stretched out on the floor, leaning back against the end of the couch. How his back put up with that was an eternal source of mystery for Hugh.

Bryce pulled out a beanie cap. "I need you to close your eyes for a second while I put this on your head.'

Hugh glanced at Paul, who was relaxed and smiling. He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Bryce pulled the beanie on his head, so it was halfway down his forehead and covering his hair. "OK, you can open them."

Hugh did.

Everyone was smiling, but no one was laughing.

"You're not about to take a picture of me in a hat that says Lorca sucks are you?" Hugh asked, resisting the urge to cross his arms. "I mean, not that I disagree."

"The hat is not a negative hat, and no pictures," Bryce said. "I need you to raise your right hand."

Hugh did.

"OK, repeat after me. I solemnly swear..."

"I solemnly swear."

"To keep the secrets of the adventure party..."

"To keep the secrets of the adventure party."

"Or forever incur the wrath."

"Or forever incur the wrath."

"Of the dungeon master."

"Of the dungeon master?" Hugh repeated, baffled. That was.... Paul was...

"You can take the hat off and look at it now," Bryce said with a grin.

Hugh took off the cap, looking at Paul who was grinning.

The cap had a polyhedral die with the number 20 on it embroidered on the rim, and the words "Carpe DM". 

Hugh snorted. "Does that mean I'm supposed to seize the dungeon master now?"

"I'll pass, thanks," Bryce said. "but I suspect the party's bard might take you up on that." He nodded towards Paul.

Hugh handed Bryce the hat back. "You guys are playing Dungeons and Dragons?"

"Yes," Bryce said.

"Why the state secrecy?" Hugh asked.

"I... dropped a D-20 in front of Lorca after a particularly nasty Black Alert. There was a Thing," Airiam looked down at the floor. "We decided to keep it a secret after that."

"I had my dice in my pocket that day too." Rhys patted her shoulder. "It could've happened to any of us."

"Sorry about all that shaking," Paul said quietly.

"I'm the pilot," Airiam said. "You weren't even the navigator yet."

A change of subject was in order. "Paul must really like you, Rhys."

Rhys jumped.

"Ask Tam: I can't even get him to come to Opera nights occasionally and he _likes_ opera. I don't know how you talked him into this, but I'm impressed."

"Firstly, that group is your thing, Hugh. Secondly, you have terrible taste in opera, Hugh, we've been through this," Paul said. "And you can't hum it worth a damn either."

"As you always so rudely tell me."

Tam was laughing her ass off. "You're just afraid of the fireworks if we get Marks and Stamets in the same room, aren't you?"

"Yeah, afraid for Marks," Hugh said.

Paul sat up, crossing his arms. "I'm not sure if I should thank you for your confidence or be insulted by your implication that I lack restraint."

"Both," Hugh said.

"Rhys, what have you done? Now there's two of them," Bryce said.

"I have inservice on Thursdays," Hugh said. "Your game is safe; Paul just wanted to tell me about it."

"Remember? The one night it can't conflict with my opera group?" Tam added.

Hugh snorted. That explained a lot.

Airiam stood up. "I'm afraid I have a prior commitment. Welcome to the conspiracy, Dr. Culber."

"Thank you. And that offer of knocking heads together in sickbay if you don't want to wait until next week was open ended."

"Thank you." Airiam patted Tam's shoulder as she left.

"I should get going as well," Bryce said.

"Tam, you got a few minutes to talk about Opera group?" Hugh asked. "I could walk with you."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea. Grab your padd and come with me."

Puzzled, Hugh grabbed his padd off of the coffee table and followed her and Bryce out the door.

Once the door shut behind them, Bryce frowned at it. "Is it too much to ask that they actually talk?"

"Paul was supposed to," Hugh said with a sigh. "Assuming he doesn't get sidetracked or something."

"You're not worried about Rhys at all?" Bryce asked.

"Well, he does seems pretty down," Hugh replied; he didn't want to have this conversation. Maybe if he played dumb. "Paul says he was supposed to get married last week though; who could blame him?"

"That's not what I meant," Bryce said.

Hugh sighed. Drat. "Paul says he's not a threat, so he's not a threat. And I wish people would quit asking."

Bryce looked at his boots.

Tam squeezed Hugh's shoulder. "We're meeting with Pollard, Collins, and Richter about the meeting schedule. I assume you didn't see the email this afternoon?"

"No, I got back from my counseling appointment and took a nap."

"Come on then, we're in the starboard lounge."

Hugh gratefully followed Tam towards the turbolift, leaving Bryce in their dust.

"How are you, really?" Tam asked as the turbolift doors shut behind them, leaving Bryce well out of earshot.

Hugh sighed. "It's a struggle, honestly. I'm feeling behind and a little adrift. I worry I'm holding onto Paul just a little too tightly."

Tam squeezed his shoulder. "Stamets really missed you. And I'm looking forward to having someone to gang up with against Richter and Pollard on Kasseelian tenors."

Hugh snickered. "I imagine Collins' 'if they're not a soprano, I don't care' policy doesn't help."

"No, definitely not."

Hugh leaned against the wall, closing his eyes.

"I can send the others your regards?" Tam asked. 

"No, Paul and Rhys need to talk. I just... Everything's awkward right now."

"I bet," Tam said. "For whatever it's worth we've all missed you and we're looking forward to having you back."

Hugh raised an eyebrow.

"You missed the email Richter sent out yesterday too?"

"There's a triple wave of stuff in there--from when I actually died within the ship, then extra-ship email that was sent after the other Discovery was destroyed and then after this Discovery made it back and I literally had to dump everything into a separate folder and sort it out later. I might've missed something in all those dates. And I'm not even sure if I should read it, you know? People send those things for them..."

"And Richter being Richter..."

"It's threaded in with the other stuff so it wouldn't be under a separate subject." Hugh laughed. "I should've known."

"So should we," Tam said.

The turbolift doors opened.

Tam grinned at him. "Come on."

Hugh took a deep breath. This smelled of a set up. There was nothing to do, however, but follow Tam's lead.

* * *

"No, he'd hate the arrangement of that Puccini." He could hear Richter before he could see him.

"That Andorian piece was just weird," Owosekun added.

"Yeah, but it's Culber's kind of weird," Richter said.

Hugh looked at Tam who just smirked at him as they entered the starboard lounge.

"Culber," Owosekun said, jovially. "Glad you made it! We're trying to prioritize the list of things you missed to the ones we think you'd actually like!"

"There's also a bunch of Kasseelian style pieces if you need something to troll your partner with," Richter added.

Hugh laughed. "Once. I did that one time. _He needs his prefrontal cortex, ok?_."

Richter laughed. "Well, all the styles are listed. We'll send this to you and..."

"Do me a favor and start a new thread, my email blew up while I was gone and I can't find a thing!"

"He would've missed the meeting if I hadn't run into him," Tam added.

"Noted," Richter said. "So, meeting schedule..."

Everyone turned to their calendars.

* * *

Hugh went back to their quarters and hesitated at the door. Had he given Paul and Rhys enough time?

Had he given them too much time? (Quit being an idiot, Hugh, it's your quarters.)

He palmed open the door and walked in.

Burnham was sitting on the couch, her hand on Paul's back.

"Dr. Culber," Burnham said. She stood.

"I can..."

"No, it's fine. I already got the commander's signature, we were just talking." She paused, then shook her head to clear it. She picked up her padd and then left.

Paul was still leaning over, his forehead resting on his palms. He hadn't moved.

"Paul?" Hugh asked. 

No response.

Hugh sat next to Paul, resting his own palm on Paul's back. "Are you OK?"

Paul shook his head.

"What did Burnham want?" Hugh asked. "Is there..."

"No." Paul rubbed his eyes. "We were just talking."

That was.... Stop it, Hugh. Not now. "Then what's wrong? Did it go badly with Rhys?"

Paul sighed.

"What happened?" Hugh started rubbing circles on Paul's back with the flat of his hand.

Paul shook his head.

"Babe, talk to me, please," Hugh said.

"I can't handle his insecurity on top of yours right now." Paul paused. "Or the other way around, for that matter. It's like fighting a two front war."

Hugh sighed. "I get that, but you're not exactly Mr. Secure right now, and it's making me more nervous."

Paul turned to him and stared. "What makes you think..."

"You were home right after your shift. You didn't fight me on the quarters thing."

Paul jolted to his feet. "I tried to be a good partner and you're mad at me? For doing the things you always asked me to do?"

Hugh reached for Paul's hand. "I'm not mad, Paul, I'm _concerned_. It's out of character for you, like you're feeling guilty."

"For not doing those things when I had the chance! When you... when you... went away." Paul crashed back onto the couch, leaning back like a sulky teenager.

"Died," Hugh said, softly. "Burgis insisted I use it earlier."

"OK. When you died, I had..." Paul paused, rubbing his forehead with his thumb and forefinger. "I can't even count the number of regrets. I should've told you I loved you more, I should've spent more time with you, I shouldn't have been such a bullheaded jerk all the time."

Hugh smiled. "Well, if you weren't a bullheaded jerk in that cafe we never would've met."

Paul glared.

Hugh held his hands up. "Sorry. Wrong time."

Paul huffed. "I mean, you have a point but just--I've spent the last six months wrestling with everything I did wrong, how bad I was at this, how I didn't let you know how much I cared, how..."

Hugh wrapped his arm around Paul's shoulders, pulling him in. "You let me know, Paul."

Paul narrowed his eyes, frowning. "You said that in the network but..."

"Have I ever lied to you just to make you feel better?"

"No."

"Why the heck would you think..."

"You were dead! You were never..." Paul started to pull away.

Hugh pulled him back. "You're being too stubborn again, but I love you anyway."

Paul blinked.

"Do you think I wouldn't have said that?"

Paul scrubbed a hand over his face. "OK, point. But _still_. We've been given this gift. A second chance. A fucking do over. I don't want to waste it. I want us to grow old together, adjoining rocking chairs in the nursing home kind of thing, but... Shit happens out here. It could happen again, and if it does, I'd really like to be able to tell myself I did my best this time."

"Oh, _honey_." The words came out of Hugh's mouth before he could stop them. "C'mere." He pulled Paul against his chest.

Paul snuggled into him. "I love you."

Hugh ran his fingers through Paul's hair. "I love you too. You're good enough for me, OK? Just the way you are."

"You did say you wanted to lure me back to our quarters more."

"I did. I would like to, but I want you to be here _because you want to be_ , not because..."

"I missed you. There was this giant gaping hole in my life where you used to be and now you're back, and right now I don't want to spend a minute more apart from you than I have to."

Hugh kissed his brow. 

"I just kept thinking about all that wasted time. All those times I was in the lab fighting to get something just right." Paul sighed. Snuggled a little closer.

"I'm here now," Hugh said, softly.

"You are." Paul leaned up, placing a gentle peck on his lips. "I'm glad. I missed you."

Hugh ruffled Paul's hair. "Do you want to talk about Rhys?"

"Burnham and I talked it through and I feel like you've got your own shit to work through right now."

Burnham?

"I want to be here for you." Hugh tightened his grip.

"You are, but you've got a lot on your plate right now. Rhys feeling like he's getting deprioritized--which, I mean, he's not _wrong_ , but I don't want to abandon him either--well, it's not your problem. It's just... how the world works. Which sucks when you're single." Paul sighed, leaning into Hugh's chest. "I think you both could benefit from getting to know each other better, but let me worry about finding the balance here, OK? Unless you think I'm neglecting you. Then I want to know. Post-haste."

"OK," Hugh said, maybe a little too drawn out.

"What?"

"Give me some time to get used to you having a local support network other than me? There's a lot for me to get used to."

Paul shifted just enough to kiss Hugh softly on the lips. "Don't worry, dear doctor, you're still my favorite."

Hugh chuckled. "Just so we're clear."

"So I take it Tam dragged you to an opera group thing?"

"Scheduling meeting," Hugh replied. "And when we walked in Richter and Owosekun were debating which of the pieces I missed were the ones I'd like the best so that they could prioritize the list for me. They're sending it all to my queue."

"Wow, that's sweet."

"It is," Hugh agreed.

"Put something on."

Hugh gave Paul an appreciative squeeze. "Computer, list files recently transferred to music queue Culber-1, in the order suggested by the sender."

"Computer, belay that and play the first selection." 

"Playing The Flower Duet from Lakme performed by Giuseppina Pentangeli and Imani Baharia."

The music washed over them, and Hugh closed his eyes, tension draining away. Paul grew heavier as he relaxed into Hugh's arms. For awhile, Hugh just listened to the music, enjoying Paul's presence, but otherwise just letting himself be.

* * *

Hugh woke the next morning still tangled in Paul's arms. He sighed, contentedly, snuggling a little closer and closing his eyes.

Soon he'd be back at work. And be dealing with Steinberg and Sickbay and...

Not now. Paul. Right here. Snug. Safe.

...and still catching up on patient loads--he needed a plan for Airiam. He needed to talk to Pollard--it wasn't like her to just change things willy nilly (even if Steinberg had initiated it).

He was up. Shit.

A glance at the padd by the bed let him know it was 0600. He could go work out and be back before Paul was up. Now to see if he still had it. He gently lifted Paul's arm, squirming away from him.

"Wha... Hugh, where are you going?" Paul asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Need to get back into working out sometime, and I'm not getting back to sleep. I'll be back for breakfast."

"I could give you a better workout." Paul tossed him a crooked grin.

Hugh chuckled. "Um..."

"You've hit 'I'm going to get grumpy if I don't go to the gym soon' haven't you?"

Hugh kissed Paul tenderly, then gently pulled away. "Go back to sleep."

Paul sighed. "Can't. Burnham made me promise I'd start running with her and Tilly again once you went back to working out."

Hugh raised an eyebrow.

"Otherwise known as she let me get away with slacking off for extra cuddles, but if you're up, I don't get that excuse."

Hugh stared.

"I might've couched it as 'not wanting to leave you before I had to' but essentially that's why."

Hugh closed the distance between them, kissing Paul tenderly. He languidly ran his hands up and down Paul's arms. Paul returned the kiss, hands massaging Hugh's back.

Hugh kissed along Paul's jawline.

Paul let out a soft moan. "Keep that up, and we're going to end up with that private workout..."

"I can hit the gym after breakfast," Hugh replied. "Might as well enjoy that while I can."

Paul responded by tugging at the hem of Hugh's pajama shirt. 

Hugh smiled as he lifted his arms. Yes, definitely a good decision.

* * *

The next morning, Hugh was startled out of a pleasant dream by the alarm clock.

Paul moaned. "Damnit, why is that going off?"

"I'm going to the gym and you're meeting Burnham and Tilly."

"Why'd I tell them I was doing that?" Paul sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time?" Hugh asked. He stretched, lazily. The first alarm was technically a five minute warning. (He knew they were both going to be reluctant to untangle themselves from each other, and this way they had a little leeway.)

Paul sighed. "You sure you don't want to do another private workout?"

Hugh cupped Paul's cheek. "As much as I'd like to, I'm meeting my parents on the station today, and there's not time and..."

"Given Dr. Price's instructions you don't want to skip anymore," Paul said.

"Right." Hugh leaned in and kissed Paul tenderly. "Rain check?"

Paul kissed him, the kiss full of so much longing that Hugh shivered.

The next alarm blared.

"Fuck," Hugh said.

"No," Paul sighed. "And that's the problem."

Hugh chuckled, sliding out of bed. "When are Burnham and Tilly meeting you here?"

"They're meeting me at the gym." Paul got out of bed, heading for the closet.

Hugh went into the 'fresher, pulling out his workout clothes from the day before. "Why?"

"Because then I can walk down with you and get a whole three minutes of handholding before I have to leave." Paul pulled his Disco shirt and exercise pants out of the closet, then went into a drawer for underwear.

Hugh smiled. "Aww." He pulled his pajama shirt over his head, then looked over at Paul, who was staring at him. "You OK?"

Paul smirked. "Just enjoying the gun show."

Hugh flexed, and then stripped off his pants, pulled on his underwear, and then his pants.

Paul hadn't moved.

Hugh smirked again. Reaching for his Disco shirt and slowly, languidly pulling it over his chest. Then he turned to Paul, who was staring open jawed, still in his pajamas.

Hugh just raised an eyebrow.

"What?" Paul asked.

"Well?" Hugh asked. "You still need to get dressed."

Paul flushed. "I... um... it's not quite the same show."

Hugh rolled his eyes. "Do we have to have this discussion again? Paul, I love your body. Now _strip_. Besides it being only fair, we don't want to be late."

Paul flushed.

Hugh frowned. "Do you want me to turn around?"

"What? No," Paul played with the hem of his t-shirt. "It's fine."

Hugh sighed, abandoning watching Paul for donning his boots. "If I'm making you uncomfortable...."

"No. I'm just..." There was a pause and shuffling of fabric. "It's been awhile since I was living with someone, with you." More shuffling. "I kind of forgot how... distracting your physique can be. I didn't mean to stare." Hugh risked a glance and found Paul digging through his sock drawer; the back of his neck was red.

Hugh smiled. "I don't mind. Hell, I enjoy it--but I don't want to make you uncomfortable by returning the favor--well, not favor if it's making you uncomfortable."

Paul looked at the floor. "I dropped a lot of weight while you were gone. Side effect of the jumps, Pollard thinks. There's been a lot of tracking, and I guess I'm even more self conscious than usual?"

Hugh frowned. "That doesn't make sense from what I've seen; were you remembering to eat? Before Rhys I mean?"

Paul shrugged, pulling on his boots. "We should go; we're going to be late."

Hugh was going to have a careful look at Paul's records. There was no indication that the jumps should cause _weight loss_. Not when he'd been watching Paul's health at any rate.

Paul held out his hand. Hugh took it, entwining their fingers. Paul grinned at him, squeezing his hand.

Paul was getting downright sappy, and Hugh was going to enjoy it while it lasted.

* * *

"I'll meet up with you back at our quarters," Paul said when they arrived at the gym. He gave Hugh a quick peck on the cheek.

"Good morning, Dr. Culber," Tilly said cheerily.

"'morning."

"Glad to have you back, Stamets," Burnham said. "Dr. Culber."

He nodded.

Paul waved at someone in the gym and then followed Burnham and Tilly off at a brisk jog.

Hugh went into the gym to find Rhys staring at him from one of the exercise bikes. "Hey."

Rhys eyed him warily. "Hi.'

Hugh walked up to the bike. "Can I ask you something?"

Rhys gulped. "Ok."

"Have you noticed if Paul's had major changes in appetite after a jump? I'd ask him, but he'd be unlikely to tell me if he had dinner last night."

"I only really saw once, and it seemed like he wasn't very hungry awhile." Rhys paused, considering. "Maybe 24 hours or so, and then he ate more than usual for about a day and then it leveled out."

"That's what I saw too," Hugh said.

"Can I ask why?"

"He told me he dropped a lot of weight, and Pollard thought it was the jumps."

Rhys frowned. "From what Tilly, Burnham, and I pieced together once, I doubt it--and I could've sworn we told Pollard about this." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Look, I gather from Paul you like her, but I'm really glad she's not his advocate anymore. I feel like she wasn't monitoring him very well and not doing a good job of filtering out his symptoms--the guy was grieving and depressed, and some things could be that you know?"

Hugh raised an eyebrow.

Rhys shrugged. "I have no data, just a feeling."

"I'll look into it."

"Thank you," Rhys said.

"No, thank you." Hugh turned toward the weight rack.

"Culber?"

Hugh turned around.

Rhys twisted the hem of his shirt between his thumb and forefinger. "From what I gather, Paul says you're feeling threatened and--I mean, I wouldn't. Have you seen the way he looks at you? Anyone who cares about Paul at all wouldn't want to get between you two. Besides, are you familiar with the Kinsey scale?"

Hugh frowned. "Yes?"

"I'm like a negative two."

Hugh stared for a second. "I don't think that goes negative but I see your point." He paused. "Did you get the two front war speech the other night too?"

"Yeah." Rhys sighed. "Do you get the feeling we're stressing him out more than he has to be?"

"Yeah. Let me grab some weights, I'll be right back."

Rhys nodded, but his eyes were darting towards the exit.

Hugh reached for the 10 K weights to warm up out of habit, then, mindful of Dr. Price's instructions, grabbed the 5 K instead.

Rhys raised an eyebrow when he returned.

He shrugged. "Supposed to take it slow--we don't really know how I'm back, Doctor's orders are not to push it. And I digress..."

Rhys snorted. "I know we should probably talk about this--but it feels a little like going behind Paul's back."

Hugh nodded, starting on his curls. "I know the feeling, but we're both concerned about him and--I love the man, but he's not the best at knowing his own body."

"Not just that." Rhys fiddled with something on the bike controls.

"I feel like we should get to know each other. That's what the dinner is about, anyway." Hugh hoped he could keep his count accurate and talk at the same time. It was just warm ups anyway.

Rhys narrowed his eyes. "I thought you promised Tilly?"

"That too. Two birds, one stone." Hugh winced as his bicep complained. He set the weights down. "More rests for the time being as well."

Rhys nodded. "Yeah, don't push it. You're right--about the getting to know each other." He sighed, and started pedaling backwards on the bike. "I know you're right--according to Paul, I'm his best friend and you're his partner and we're probably going to be spending a lot of time together so..."

"Breathe," Hugh said.

Rhys winced. "Was that a Tilly level babble?"

Hugh snorted. "Nah, still at amateur levels."

Rhys flushed.

"But yes, that exactly. It'll be a lot easier on Paul if we can get along."

"Double cease fire?" Rhys asked.

Hugh smiled. "Yes. Granted. So what else have you learned about that Vulcan cult?"

"Actually, you should see some of the stuff that cropped up after Jonathan Archer's first encounter with the Klingons," Rhys said and started to explain.

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

"Sorry you can't come," Hugh said as Paul walked him to the transporter room after breakfast.

Paul shrugged. "As much as I like your mother, it was worth it to skip this leave so I could shut myself in our quarters with you. I'm just amazed _she_ could get leave on such short notice."

"Mom has pull." Hugh shrugged.

"Are you sure you're comfortable?" Paul said. "I mean, I could burn another day..."

Hugh leaned over and kissed him. "She's my mom. Once she's done crying on me it'll be fine."

Paul cupped Hugh's face with his palm, stroking Hugh's cheek with his thumb. "Call me if you need to, okay?"

Hugh smiled--he was soaking up the attention while he could get it. "I will. Thank you."

Paul leaned in, kissing him one more time. (In the hallway. Which was generally not a thing they did by mutual agreement but Hugh wasn't _complaining_.) "Have fun. Say hi to your mom for me."

"I will."

"I love you," Paul said.

"I love you too." Hugh walked into the transporter room, smiling.

"Doctor Culber!" Ensign M'Bondo said cheerfully. "It's good to see you."

Hugh smiled. "You too, Ensign."

He took his place on the transporter pad with a few other people milling about. Cadet Decker zipped in, barely making it to her spot on the pad by the designated departure time.

"Energize," Ensign M'Bondo said.

* * *

Hugh stepped out of the transporter room on Starbase 10 and looked around, searching through the crowd.

He could see his mother's tight bun in the crowd, she was talking intently to a bald man whose face he couldn't see. Hugh strode over, gently touching his mother's shoulder.

"Mom?"

He was immediately bowled over in a tight hug. "Hugh!"

Hugh looked up to his mother's conversation partner expecting to apologize, but-- "Dad? Weren't you out near..."

He was cut off by his father wrapping both Hugh and his mother in his arms. "I love you, son."

Conflicting feelings boiled within Hugh. His father had done his best growing up--Hugh understood that now more than ever--but he had never, not once dropped everything for him before. Why now? (Why did Paul have to be the one to teach Freddy to shave?) Also Hugh couldn't remember the last time his father had said he loved him in public.

Shouldn't this be easy? These were his parents. This should be easy.

"I love you, too," he managed. His eyes grew damp. He leaned his face on his mom's shoulder, to hide his tears from the rest of the world, and wanted, for just a moment, to hide where it was safe, snug in his parents arms.

All too soon, his father let go, followed shortly by his mother.

His mother reached up, gently brushing away the tears in his eyes. "Are you okay sweetie?"

Hugh sighed. "I..." He turned over everything going through his mind, trying to find the words that wouldn't make his problems seem so damn _petty_ next to being back from the dead.

Hugh's father draped an arm around his shoulders. "Why don't we find somewhere to eat and we can talk."

"Yeah," Hugh said.

* * *

They ended up in a tiny fusion cafe. Hugh hid behind the menu until the server took their order and took the menus away.

His mother laid her hand flat on his back, making comforting circles there. "How are you doing, sweetie? You look rough."

Hugh rubbed face with this hand. "I've missed six months. Or a year and a half, depending on how you look at it; it's... been hard. Even with Paul."

"That man loves you very much."

"I know, Mom. He's--we're working it out. Emphasis on work. He--I've told you he's not very social? He made all these new friends. On the one hand I'm _thrilled_. I'm so proud of him. On the other hand, one of them, Rhys, he suffered a loss too, and he's really struggling and he and Paul got close and--I mean, I'm proud of Paul for this, he has a new best friend and he's making sure he doesn't abandon him, but it's so weird for me. They're close--not like, lovers close, but best friends close, and I'm not used to Paul's attention being divided. Well, not between me and other people--my competition was usually his work. 

"And worse, I feel bad even complaining because Paul's been getting home within ten minutes of his shift ending. He's been extra attentive, and I am enjoying the hell out of it, but I feel bad because he says it's because he had a lot of regrets while I was dead and...." He stopped and took a breath.

His mom draped an arm around Hugh's shoulders, pulling him into a one armed hug. "I want to spend every moment I can with you, too."

"I can't remember Dad ever dropping everything to come halfway across the quadrant either," Hugh said. "If people aren't fussing over me, they're forgetting there's things I don't know. Except Paul, who immediately remembers to tell me things." He started rubbing his forehead with his thumb and forefinger.

"I told you he was a keeper," his mom said.

Hugh laughed. "This week you told me he was a keeper. Two years ago--sorry, three--when I told you about how we met on Alpha Centauri you asked me why in the name of all that was good would I ever give him my contact information."

"Yes, well, you were always a better judge of character than I was," his mom said. "Where is Paul? If he's as attentive as you say, I'm surprised he's not here."

"He did offer, but he already burned two days of leave to be with me after he came back."

"Say no more," his mom said. "I imagine the leave policy has been confused with his promotion coming so quickly."

"I didn't want him to have to choose between taking a vacation with me or going to visit with his family."

His mother kissed his cheek. "So this thing he found in your things?"

Hugh sighed. He was hoping she'd forgotten. "He found the engagement ring I bought for him. I--things got confusing for awhile, before, and I was waiting--I was actually going to propose, there was a plan and everything, but then..." He crashed his forehead into his mother's shoulder. 

She squeezed him, kissing his forehead. "Have you two talked about it?"

"The ring? Or getting married?"

"Either." She batted a stray tuft of hair off of his forehead.

"Getting married, a few times, well a lot of times, before. After I've been back--well, we agreed that neither of us was in a fit state after you called to talk about the ring and we've never brought it up again, and--like I said, things are taking a lot of work right now. And Paul's so--I feel like it would be loaded? Like we should get married right now, today, before something else bad happens. I don't want to rush things I guess?"

"You two built your relationship on a year and a half of video chat, went straight from that to living together, and then you died and it seems like it's more of a speed bump than an issue and you're _worried_?" She shoved his arm playfully. " _Give that man that ring before he wanders off._ "

Hugh chuckled. "Geez, Mom, are you saying I'll put him off or something?"

She laughed. "You're right. His mom should be telling him that."

Hugh covered his face with his hand. "Mom."

"You have to admit he's a handful." She took a sip of her tea.

"Well, yeah, but he's _my_ handful."

His mother chuckled, gently rubbing his back. "Just remember that and you'll get through this just fine."

Hugh leaned his head against his mother's shoulder. "Thanks, Mom. Enough about me, what have I missed?"

"Your father's boss talked him out of retiring again," she said with a huff.

Hugh blinked. "You were thinking of retiring? Wait. _Again?_ "

His mother scrunched up her forehead.

"The first time was only a year ago. I wanted to spend more time with your mother and sister, after... after..." Hugh's father shook his head.

Hugh blinked, not really wanting to cry in front of his parents again (his mother would start and then things would get ugly). "You got time off because you threatened to just retire if you didn't."

"Yes," his father said. 

Hugh ducked his head.

"Don't you dare be embarrassed because I finally got my priorities straight."

Hugh smiled, thinly. "So what else has been going on?"

* * *

"Tell me again why we're dong this?" Hugh's mother asked as they walked, arm in arm, into the market after lunch.

"I'm making dinner for Paul and some friends." He squeezed her hand.

She frowned. "How did you get stuck with this?"

"I volunteered," Hugh said. He'd promised Tilly, Before, that he would try to get the kitchen the next time they got an opportunity at fresh ingredients. Unfortunately, that was right before everything went to hell. Rhys was of course a new addition to this plan, but...

"Hugh, you shouldn't overextend yourself."

Hugh rolled his eyes. "I'm back on active duty in two days, if I can't handle cooking..."

"Hugh." His mother pulled her arm away from him, crossing her arms.

"Mom, please, I just convinced Paul to stop treating me like I'm made of glass; don't start."

She sighed. 

"He is an adult, Cassie," Hugh's father pointed out. He laid a gentle hand on Hugh's shoulder. "What are you making?"

"Shrimp paella," Hugh said.

His father draped an arm around his shoulders. "Well, let's make sure we can get you the main ingredient before we get the extras. The best seafood stand in these parts is this way."

Hugh smiled. He hadn't been shopping with his dad in forever. This was going to be fun.

* * *

"Are you sure you're up to cooking, sweetie?" his mom asked as she and his father walked with him back to the transporter deck of the station.

"I'm fine, Mom, really," Hugh said.

She cupped his face in her hand. "I just don't want to lose you again. You're supposed to outlive me, remember?"

He wanted to tell her he'd be safe, that he'd be in Sickbay helping people, not getting hurt.

Except it was as lie. He'd been in sickbay. He'd been with someone he'd thought was a Starfleet officer. He--suspected he knew what the subject of his next session with Burgis was going to be about.

"Hugh?"

"I remember," he said softly. "I'll be careful; I promise."

She drew him into a hug, gently shoving the shopping bag to his side. "You better call me a lot."

"I will," he promised as they separated.

Hugh reached out his hand to his father. His dad took it, and pulled Hugh into a bear hug.

"Take care of yourself." His dad patted him on the back.

"I will."

He headed off to the transport pad, a knot in his stomach.

* * *

Hugh arrived at the kitchen area taking it in. There was a food synthesizer (why?), a refrigeration unit, and metallic cabinets that he knew housed a variety of spices as well as prep tools. These were above a silvery prep counter, which housed a dishwasher. To the left of the prep area was a floor to ceiling cabinet holding dishes and utensils from a variety of Federation worlds. In front of that was a long dining table.

It would do nicely. Hugh set to work.

He was knee deep in veining shrimp when the door opened. He turned around and smiled in delight. "Paul! I thought we agreed dinner would be in an hour?"

Paul smiled back. "We did--Tilly, Rhys, and Burnham will be here then. I thought you'd like a sous chef."

Hugh's heart fluttered a little. "Sure. You want to chop the bell pepper?"

"On it." Paul rifled through the shopping bag. "How'd it go with your mom?"

"Well the big surprise was that Dad was there too."

Paul turned around. "Get out of town. Your dad? Who tried really hard but barely made it to your graduations?"

"Yeah." Hugh dug at a particularly stubborn shrimp vein. "Apparently, they keep talking him out of retiring, so he threatened to retire for real if they didn't give him time off."

"Wow." Paul turned back to the bag, pulling out the red pepper. "That must've thrown you."

"They were both crying."

"Damn."

"Tears of happiness, but it felt awkward. Everything feels awkward." Hugh sighed. "What is wrong with me?"

Paul came over, took the deveining knife away from Hugh and took his hands. "Nothing's wrong with you. Things are just... Hugh, how would you feel if your grandma walked through that door."

"Paul, she died when I was ten!"

Paul squeezed his hands. "Yeah, I know, but she just walked through that door, how would you feel?"

"Confused. Really happy to see her, but there'd be so much to tell her and--" Oh. "Geez."

Paul placed a soft peck on his lips. "At least I have the luxury of knowing you'll still be next to me in the morning if I forget something."

"To be fair, you do have a really long list," Hugh said. "It's like you missed me or something."

"I did."

* * *

Paul leaned against the counter, watching Hugh stir the paella on the stove.

"How was your day?" Hugh asked, idly checking the rice.

"Too much bureaucracy, not enough science." Paul sighed. "Tilly's pretty close to something though. I left her slaving away over some calculations looking excited."

"And you tore yourself away from the lab anyway?"

"I wanted to help you; I walked in here and my day got a whole lot better."

Hugh looked up at Paul.

Paul was smiling, his eyes half closed.

Hugh smiled back. "Oh really?"

"Well, yeah. I get to make dinner with my partner for our close friends and then spend the evening with them."

The spoon clattered to the side of the pan, and Hugh just barely managed to grab it before it bounced onto the floor.

"Hugh?"

"You're actually feeling social? Who are you and what have you done with Paul Stamets?"

Paul blinked. "I used to hang out with Straal on occasion you know."

"I know, but on the ship I could barely drag you away from the lab to spend time with me."

"Like I said the other night, there's more to life."

Hugh looked Paul over. He was looking at the counter, hand playing with a stray piece of rice. He seemed relaxed, if a little bit bashful.

"Paul, I was teasing--well, mostly. I'm not upset, just surprised." Hugh stroked his arm.

"Lorca not riding my ass has helped." Paul shrugged. "I've changed a lot."

"You have," Hugh agreed, "but I don't think it's a bad thing. I just need a little time to get used to it is all."

Paul stroked Hugh's wrist with the back of his index finger. "I still love you."

"I love you too," Hugh replied, softly. "That's not going to change." He looked at Paul, who was now smiling.

* * *

"Hi." Tilly stroke into the room, carrying a bottle of wine. "I found some rosado on the station, and the shop owner swore it would go well with paella and..."

"Breathe, Tilly, I'm sure it's fine." Paul gently relieved her of the bottle.

"Can I see?" Hugh asked. 

Paul passed him the bottle.

"Ooh, a Rioja. Thanks, Tilly, that's perfect." He started to turn to put the bottle on ice.

"I got it, you finish with the food," Paul said, gently taking the bottle back.

"Can I help?" Tilly offered.

"You want to set the table?" Paul suggested. "That way I can focus on the wine and helping Hugh."

"You got it!" Tilly headed for the cabinet where the dishes were kept.

The doors opened, revealing Bryce manhandling Rhys through the door.

"Nope." Rhys's voice was thin.

"Come on, Rhys," Bryce wheedled. "It's fine."

Rhys had gone pale. "I think..."

Maybe Rhys needed more backup. "Hey, Bryce, I think I made twice as much as I should have; want to stay and help us all eat it?"

Bryce's eyes widened. "Are you sure? I mean, it smells great, but I don't want to impose."

"I'm setting the table for one more." Tilly picked up a dish.

"Well, now you have to stay, Bryce," Paul said from where he was pouring the wine. "If you don't, Tilly will sulk."

"I do not sulk." Tilly set the dishes down on the table.

Rhys chuckled. "Really. What do you call the other week when..."

"I don't think Dr. Culber wants to hear that story," Tilly said quickly.

Hugh looked from Rhys to Tilly. "Yeah, I do. I want to hear _all the stories_."

"No you don't."

"I can always ask Paul later," Hugh pointed out as he turned back to the pan.

He could hear the doors woosh closed.

"It will be fine, Rhys," Bryce huffed.

"I don't bite," Hugh added.

"Unless you ask nice," Paul said. "Well, I ask nice--not that I would, that experiment did not go well."

"TMI, Commander," Tilly said.

"Now, Tilly..."

"Do you like hearing about your older brother's sex life?" Tilly asked.

Hugh fumbled the spoon, then recovered. Had she just...

Paul chuckled, but something rang odd. "OK, I see your point." 

Hugh glanced over his shoulder to see Paul exchange a glance with Rhys--but Paul's eyes came up and met his as well, they were wide with shock--this was news to Paul too.

Hugh turned back to the dinner, poking at the shrimp. "OK, this is done we just need...." The doors to the kitchen opened, and Burnham walked in, carrying a pan in a tray. "Burnham?"

"I asked the food synthesizers to make brownies for dessert and it came out like this."

"Ooh, thank you," Paul said. "Oh, wow, it's still warm."

"Computer, set oven for keep warm," Hugh said.

"It can do that?" Paul asked.

Hugh turned and blinked. "Yeah. Pop it in, dinner's ready. Let's eat!"

There was some jockeying for positions as Hugh brought the pan full of food to the table.

"Geez, Culber, I think I might need to go grab Detmer and Richter to help eat too," Bryce said.

Hugh shrugged. "In my family if you don't roll away from the table for a special occasion, you're doing it wrong."

He handed the pan to Tilly, who had sat on Paul's other side. "Here, Tilly, why don't you start?"

Tilly accepted the pan.

"It smells great," Rhys said, smiling shyly from across the table.

Burnham was on his left, and Bryce on his right. Rhys was playing with a fork in his hand, tapping it absently against the plate.

"Thanks," Hugh said. "So, you were telling me a story about the other week?"

"Don't," Tilly chirped. "It's bad enough it's all over the gossip mill."

"Maybe you need to take a less direct approach?" Bryce said diplomatically.

Hugh coughed.

"Tilly here has a habit of marching up to her crushes and asking them out," Paul said. "Sadly, she also seems to have a habit of crushing on jerks."

"Do not," Tilly said.

Paul turned to her. "This most recent guy told you he didn't date..."

"Redheads," Tilly said.

"And the one before?" he prompted.

"Laughed in my face."

"Need someone pounded to a pulp?" Hugh offered. "Or two someones? Hell, give me names, there's always the big needle stash."

Paul chuckled. "She wouldn't take _Psilocybe semilanceata_ to dose the last guy's food last time; this time I didn't bother asking."

"It's fine," Tilly said, "but I appreciate the sentiment."

"Please tell me you're OK with going to movie night stag," Paul said. "Unlike the sock hop, I'm not available to be your date."

"We can solo it together," Rhys offered.

Hugh blinked. "Wait, _you_ took Tilly to a sock hop?"

"Friends," Tilly blurted. "We went as friends."

Hugh rolled his eyes. "Of course you went as friends, Tilly." She'd compared Paul to her big brother what, two minutes ago? Seriously? "I'm just surprised Paul went at all."

"If I didn't, she was going to be moping around the lab for weeks and that was my job," Paul said.

Hugh smirked. More like Paul just didn't want to see Tilly sulk. (After all, who would?)

"He went all out too," Bryce said. "Wore period costume and everything."

"He tried to teach me the bop," Tilly added.

"Please tell me someone has video," Hugh said.

"No," Paul said quickly.

"Owosekun has some," Rhys said. "It's not on the ship's server per Paul's request, but I'm sure she'll be happy to provide it to you."

Paul sighed, looking at his plate. "Please make her delete it after you do."

Hugh chuckled. Paul was great at many things, dancing was not one of them. He rubbed Paul's back. "You're not even going to try to talk me out of watching it?"

"You, dear doctor, are too stubborn to be convinced; that doesn't mean the rest of the world shouldn't be spared," Paul said.

Bryce snorted as he accepted the pan from Tilly.

Hugh took Paul's hand under the table and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Rhys rubbed at his eyes.

"Pete?" Paul asked, looking up.

"Sarah stepped all over my toes on our first date," Rhys said, quietly. "I still liked to take her dancing."

Paul stood, letting go of Hugh's hand. He walked around the table. squeezed Rhys's shoulder. Hugh rested his hand on the table, trying to hide his frown.

"Rhys, you want food?" Bryce asked, passing him the pan.

Paul headed back to their side of the table.

"Yes, please," Rhys said.

Paul returned to his seat, resting his hand on top of Hugh's. Hugh moved his hand, entwining their fingers.

Paul had looked after his friend and come right back.

Would always come right back. Just like always.

If only he didn't have to let go of Paul's hand to accept the pan from Rhys.

* * *

"Nope," Rhys said, when Hugh started to get up and reach for the empty pan. "You and Paul cooked, I got the dishes."

"Let me help." Bryce stood. "Then we'll dish out the commander's brownies."

"How do you have room?" Hugh asked--he was feeling pretty stuffed.

"Bryce is a bottomless pit." Paul handed Bryce his plate. "I'd really like to bring some Orion _isaelbra_ pie to game night, but more than about a serving of the traditional recipe has dire consequences to humans, and I do not want to incur the wrath of the captain by putting her communications officer out of commission."

"I seem to remember you eating a whole pie once yourself." Bryce picked up Tilly's plate.

"It was two slices, and I'd skipped dinner," Paul shot back.

Hugh tutted.

Rhys huffed as he finished stacking his and Tilly's plates. "I know it wasn't ideal, Culber, but he'd also skipped lunch and breakfast and Bryce had finished off the pizza, so I wasn't going to complain."

"I'm a grown ass man," Paul pointed out. "Don't talk about me like I'm a kid."

"You were acting like a kid that day," Rhys fired back.

"Don't make me bring up your three chocolate meals day," Paul said.

Hugh ducked his head behind his hand to hide his laughter. 

"What's so funny, Hugh?" Paul asked.

"Rhys makes Straal look like an amateur."

"I do not require professional handling," Paul said, primly. He took Hugh's hand, pulling it close.

(Loose translation: I feel like being difficult but I still love you.)

"You have your moments, Stamets" Bryce opened the dishwasher. "Airiam once begged Rhys to talk to you on her behalf."

"Wait, what?" Paul turned around, painfully twisting Hugh's hand and arm with him.

"Paul, careful," Hugh hissed.

Paul let go, absently rubbing Hugh's shoulder. "Sorry, babe." 

"Airiam was scared of you before she got to know you." Rhys handed Bryce his collection of plates.

"We had to promise to protect her at game night," Bryce added.

Paul shrugged. "Doesn't seem to be a problem now."

"Culber's point remains," Bryce said. "You're an acquired taste."

Paul rolled his eyes. "Exactly. Some people just aren't sophisticated enough to handle me."

Hugh covered his eyes, shaking his head.

"You getting tired?" Paul asked, making comforting circles on Hugh's back.

"Of your nonsense? Yeah, a little."

"The snark or the protectiveness?" Paul asked.

Hugh turned--he'd been expecting Paul to throw it back not back down.

Paul's eyes were narrowed and he was frowning.

Hugh sighed. "You're as bad as my mom."

"We both worry because we love you," Paul said.

Whoa. Paul and Bryce must be closer than Hugh thought if he was getting downright _sappy_ in front of him.

Hugh ran his hand through Paul's hair, deliberately messing up his careful styling. "I'm fine."

"If you want to stay fine, you should probably quite messing up my hair." Paul tried to straighten his hair with his fingers.

"Then quit treating me like I'm made of glass," Hugh said.

Rhys snorted. "There's something I never tried."

"Don't even think about it," Paul said. "Hugh's the only one allowed to mess with my hair."

"Noted." Rhys grinned. "I'll find some other way to annoy you, then."

Hugh chuckled. "I might have some suggestions."

Paul looked from one to the other, eyes narrowed, and frowning. "Wait a second."

Hugh grinned.

Rhys turned around, pointing a soap covered finger at Paul. "I keep telling you, Paul, what goes around comes around."

Paul visibly gulped.

Hugh wrapped an arm around Paul's shoulders. "If you're going to drive us both to distraction, you're riding shotgun."

Paul laughed. "That sounds like a fun trip, to be honest."

Hugh smiled. It did.

* * *

Hugh and Paul walked back to their quarters hand in hand.

"You feeling better about this?" Paul asked, when the door shut behind them. He ran his thumb along Hugh's back.

"Yeah," Hugh said, leaning into the touch.

Paul's hand slid away, slowly, reluctantly.

"You have reading you want to do," Hugh said.

Paul sighed. "Unfortunately."

"I do too," Hugh said. "We could snuggle on the couch?"

Paul grinned. "I was going to suggest that."

* * *

"Oh no," Hugh said.

"Hmm?" Paul asked, his hand drifting across Hugh's shoulder.

"Patient confidential," Hugh sighed. He couldn't just put Airiam back on her old medication regime: one of her old medications, despite modern testing, was being shown to have nasty long term health implications. Increased cancer risks, decreased implant efficiency, the list went on longer than he'd have liked. "I really needed to know this a week ago. Two days? Argh."

"That's when..."

"Please stop."

"OK," Paul said. "What did you need to know?"

"New research," Hugh said. "Pollard just sent it along. I was reading things according to appointments--it could be worse I guess, we're supposed to start day after tomorrow with hand offs, so I could have had a couple hours to figure this out."

Paul leaned into Hugh's side, placing a tender kiss on his cheek. "Lucky for your patient who I definitely don't think is Airiam, you're a genius and I'm sure you'll figure it out."

"Yeah, I'm just likely to spend the next couple days researching this," Hugh said. They needed another mild synaptic inhibitor that didn't conflict with.... oh. "Unless...." He pulled up drug interaction information. "No, damn. More research."

"You'll get it."

Hugh snorted. "Eventually," and in the meantime, poor Airiam.

"If it is Airiam, she switched to Pollard because Steinberg wasn't taking her seriously, and Pollard wanted to see if she adjusted."

Hugh frowned. He couldn't respond to Paul, even if Airiam was clearly keeping him in the loop.

"Anyway, I think just knowing you're planning on _listening_ is helping her a little. Like there's an end in sight?"

Hugh leaned his head against Paul's shoulder, playing the memory of Paul leaving to squeeze Rhys's shoulder and then coming right back to him. "I think it should've been a bigger dinner party."

Paul snorted. "Let's do synthesized food next time, that was a pain."

Hugh laughed. 

Paul's hand slid along his arm, and onto his chest, tracing the line of his pecs.

Hugh took Paul's hand and kissed it. "Paul, if you keep touching me like that, neither of is going to get any reading done."

"I'm almost done," Paul said, grinning.

Hugh chuckled. "I need a couple minutes." He started furiously typing notes in his PADD to start his brainstorming. In the morning.

Judging from the look Paul was giving him, "almost done" was going to be close enough pretty soon.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

Hugh sat on the edge of a biobed in sickbay, staring at Airiam's chart.

"Does that say I'm a Klingon?" 

Hugh jumped to his feet, trying to remember his basic defense training in the academy in the face of Ash Tyler.

The PADD floated, then crashed to the floor.

"Your partner's brought us to Qo'noS." Ash reached for Hugh's head.

Hugh stumbled backwards. "No, leave me alone!"

"Hugh!"

The ship lurched, but Hugh could hear Paul calling.

"Hugh, wake up!"

"What?"

Then he realized the ship wasn't shaking; Paul was shaking him.

"Hugh, wake up, you're dreaming."

Hugh opened his eyes, the gentle glow of the bathroom light bathing their quarters.

Hugh turned around, burying his face in Paul's bare shoulder. "Ugh, that was a bad dream."

Paul wrapped his arms around Hugh, pulling him close. The warmth of Paul's chest against Hugh's skin was soothing. "I gathered. Want to talk about it?"

"I was in sickbay and... Tyler..."

"He's gone," Paul said. "He's not here, and I'm not letting him anywhere near you. He sets foot on this ship and I'm getting a phaser. I will stun his ass if he so much as looks at you funny."

Hugh chuckled. "Just stun, huh?"

"Well, I might have to go through Tilly on general principles, and my aim sucks."

Hugh laughed. "They'd likely court-marshal you anyway."

"Worth it." Paul rubbed Hugh's back with the flat of his hand. "I'm here; I'm right here." He rolled over on his back, pulling Hugh against his chest.

Hugh snuggled close, resting his head on Paul's chest. "I guess I know where to start with Burgis tomorrow, huh?"

Paul ran his fingers through Hugh's hair. "That's a very good idea."

Hugh closed his eyes, breathing in Paul's scent. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Waking me up. Being here for me. You've been a rock. Thank you."

Paul kissed the top of his head, then rested his nose against it. "I love you."

"I love you too."

* * *

The morning of Hugh's first shift back was a whirlwind of patient handoff meetings, paperwork, and greeting various members of the staff.

The afternoon was, comparatively, dull. He and Steinberg were on walk in duty, and so far all they'd had was a couple of trip incident reports and a case of dehydration. (Hugh had needed to cut off Steinberg's lecture of the cadet to suggest that she give it to his lab manager instead--there was no food or drink allowed in that lab, and people were supposed to get breaks.)

This hadn't exactly endeared him to Steinberg, who gave up trying to be cordial, and sat on a bench, reading a medical journal.

Hugh sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Medical team to lab 7."

Steinberg swore and then leapt to her feet, activating a gurney and grabbing a couple things. "Prep a level three decontam kit and a...."

"Set of exposure kits," Hugh sighed. "This happened every other week before you came too."

Steinberg left without another word.

Hugh went to the drawer where the decontam kits were kept and found neurostimulators. He pinched himself.

Nope, not dreaming.

He tapped the comm panel. "This is Culber, where are the decontam kits and biohazard exposure kits?"

"Where the hell do you think they are?" snapped an unfamiliar voice.

"We moved the decontam kits to biobed-1 top drawer in an efficiency reorganization," Pollard said. "To answer your next question, the exposure kits are directly under them. I'll deal with Rabinowitz."

"Thanks," Hugh said, dashing for the drawer. He had things set out just in time for Steinberg to come in with Ensign Maryweather, the rest of the lab team following the gurney.

Pollard also came in. "Ok, folks, I don't have to tell any of you drill."

Hugh sighed, gesturing towards Tam and Ellenberg.

"Not what you were hoping for on your first day back, huh?" Tam asked as Hugh started pulling out hyposprays.

"I was honestly hoping that the new captain would have strongarmed someone into fixing that damn biosafety field already." He injected the first one into Tam's neck.

"Engineering has replaced almost everything in it," Ellenberg said. "She's been pushing for the parts."

Hugh sighed. "They should just replace it."

"Oh, yes please," Tam said. "I don't want to keep doing this, I worry about the long term effects of all this prophylaxis."

"It's supposed to be safe," Hugh said, "but it's not supposed to be used this much either." He finished the kit on Tam.

"They should just make these as autoinjectors." Ellenberg hopped up on the bed.

Hugh sighed. "Then we wouldn't know how much you were using these things and we couldn't yell at command for you."

Ellenberg snorted. "We also wouldn't be bothering you every time the system went haywire."

Hugh shrugged. "Today we're not busy, so it's no bother."

Also, he'd found out things had been reorganized before something critical had happened. So that was good.

Dr. Price entered, taking in the scene. "Again?"

"I'll be bothering Commander Kaminsky about replacing the biofield generator, finally," Mirowitz, the lead scientist on the team, said.

Hugh injected the last hypospray into Ellenberg. "You two know the drill, plenty of fluids, anything turns funny colors come back in. I'd say be more careful, but..."

Tam chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. "I'll see you later."

Tam and Ellenberg left, followed shortly by Mirowitz and Gin.

"Dr. Culber, you and I should go through the new organization system before we have any more near misses," Pollard said.

Hugh suppressed a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

"Damnit, I knew I forgot something," Price said.

"Let's just be glad that I figured it out quickly," Hugh said.

"Otherwise, how's your first day back going?" Price asked.

"That's the only hiccup so far," Hugh replied.

"Let's get that fixed before things get busier," Pollard said.

"Thank you," Hugh said again.

He was glad to have some backup.

* * *

Hugh got back to his quarters and sat on the couch, his face in his hands.

The doors swished open. 

"Hugh?" The couch dipped next to him, Paul's hand coming to rest on his back. "What's wrong?"

"Today just..." Hugh sighed.

"Hard day?"

"Yeah."

"Tell me about it." Paul wrapped his arm around Hugh's shoulders.

"Steinberg is... deserving of her reputation." Hugh leaned into Paul's touch. "And apparently there was a massive reorganization soon after the new Captain came on board and no one remembered to tell me before I couldn't find things."

"Shit."

"Fortunately it wasn't critical and Pollard showed me the reorganization as soon as she could."

"Pollard's a good egg."

Hugh turned to Paul, staring hard.

"Seriously. I mean, that's kind of her problem when it comes to the jumps, but I'm glad she's got your back."

Hugh leaned his face into Paul's shoulder. "Someone I didn't even know snapped at me for asking where things were."

"Ouch."

Hugh scrubbed a hand over his face. "It's like..." He paused, resting his hand on Paul's knee. "This is a vent, OK? It's not about you. It may be about everyone else, but it's not about you."

"OK." Paul moved his hand to take Hugh's in his own. "I'm here."

"It's... everything is familiar and I'm home, and it seems like it's all the same, but it's _not_. And everyone else kind of expects me to just know things--honestly, I expect _me_ to know things that I don't know." He sighed. "It's like I'm a wooden peg and I had a little wooden hole and someone's been filling in the edges while I was dead and now that I'm back I don't quite fit. And you..." He cupped Paul's face in his hand. "You are always right there with the sandpaper, but everyone else just kind of expects me to cram myself in somehow, and I can't by myself." He collapsed, resting his head on Paul's shoulder.

"Did you want some help unpacking all that or would you rather I kiss it and make better and let you do the CBT stuff with Burgis?"

"Both?" Hugh said.

Paul smiled, then leaned in. Hugh leaned up to meet him. The result was a warm, tender kiss that melted some of the tension in his shoulders.

Paul leaned his nose on Hugh's shoulder as he pulled away. "Better?"

Hugh smiled. "Always."

Paul smiled back. "You ready for the unpacking?"

"Yeah."

"There are some people who expect you to know things you wouldn't, but they don't know you. You said Pollard helped... how fast did she realize you needed it."

"Immediately after I asked. Told the new person to can it, too."

"So that's one other person. And then Richter and Owosekun were making lists for you..."

Hugh blinked. "That's not..."

"If you're holding out for universal popularity, you're going to be waiting a really long time."

Hugh blinked.

"Is everyone actually expecting you to know everything?"

"No," Hugh realized. "A lot of people are trying to help. Not just you. Pollard, Owosekun and Richter, Tam, Tilly, Burnham... Rhys. Bryce."

Paul smiled at him. "Do we need to have the 'you sometimes have too high expectations of yourself' talk again?"

Hugh sighed. "I just feel like I should've asked if things had been moved."

"Yeah, it would've been a good idea, but they also should have thought to tell you." He wrapped an arm around Hugh, gently shaking him by the far shoulder. "Don't put everything on yourself, dear doctor, these shoulders can only take so much."

Hugh leaned into Paul's embrace. "Thank you."

Paul kissed his brow. "I have one other concern though."

"Oh?"

"I have sandpaper? That just sounds uncomfortable."

"It went with the metaphor." Hugh kissed Paul's cheek.

"I just don't want to be associated with something that would wear you down and cause pain," Paul said.

Hugh gave him a squeeze. "Noted."

"I'd rather be lubricant."

Hugh laughed, giving Paul a playful shove. "On wood?" He paused, then laughed at himself. "Oh, shit, that didn't help."

Paul grinned. "You laughed, so I'd say it did."

Hugh leaned into him. "Maybe we can just not move?

"Mmm." Paul wrapped his arms around Hugh, resting his head on top of Hugh's. 'Tempting, but I thought you had your opera group tonight?"

"I do, but..."

Paul sighed.

"You made plans with Rhys, didn't you?"

"It seemed like a good night for it. Besides, Burgis would say you shouldn't isolate yourself just because you had a bad day. Believe me, I know."

"I haven't gotten caught up."

"What are you worried about, a bad grade?" Paul asked.

Hugh laughed. "OK, you have a point." He leaned into Paul's embrace. "Do we have to go to dinner right now?"

"I think we have a couple minutes." Paul shifted a little, kissing Hugh softly.

Hugh kissed back, reveling in the safety of Paul's embrace.

* * *

After dinner, Hugh walked into the starboard lounge, and had to do a double take.

Paul and Rhys were in a corner, setting up a three dimensional chess set. Hugh wondered if that had always been the plan or if it had changed. Paul caught Hugh's eye, cocking his head to where Tam and Owosekun were already seated.

"Thank you," Hugh mouthed.

Paul nodded.

Hugh headed over for the table where the group was meeting.

* * *

Once the meeting broke up, Hugh pulled up a chair to the table where Paul and Rhys were playing.

"Thank you. I know it can get kind of loud in here." Hugh squeezed Rhys's shoulder before spilling into the chair and resting his right hand on top of Paul's left.

"Not a problem," Rhys said.

"My pleasure," Paul added, shifting slightly to take Hugh's hand. "I think the music was distracting Rhys. He's only soundly beating me instead of kicking my ass into next week."

"Or all the practice is helping," Rhys said as he moved a piece.

"Nah, I suck at this."

"What was it you said earlier about being too hard on oneself?" Hugh asked.

"To be fair, he _does_ suck at this," Rhys said, "but he sucks less than he used to. It might actually be a challenge to stay ahead of him soon."

Paul playfully scowled at Rhys. Then he moved his king.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Rhys and Hugh asked at once.

Paul looked at them. "Yup."

Rhys moved his queen. "Check."

Paul's knight slid onto the spot the queen now occupied. "Not that easy."

Rhys's jaw dropped. "Hmm..."

Hugh leaned back in his seat, his hand still resting in Paul's. He let himself just sit, enjoying watching Rhys spar with Paul for a change.

* * *

Airiam stumbled as she stepped into Sickbay a couple days later. Hugh rushed over, grabbing her by her elbow.

"Damnit."

Hugh helped her to a biobed. "At least your timing's good. Come on, you know the drill. Let's check everything over to make sure it really is the drugs and not your augments--and that you didn't just shake something loose."

Airiam scoffed. "That was one of your partner's more..."

"You were piloting," Hugh pointed out as he started the scan. "I don't think it's fair to put everything on Paul."

Airiam harrumphed.

"Everything looks normal physically; let's see if we get any error codes from your augments." Hugh picked up the tricorder and hooked into Airiam's data port.

"Then can we put me back on my old meds?"

Hugh sighed. "That's the bad news I'm afraid: there have been serious safety concerns with the synaptic inhibitor you were taking; that's why Dr. Steinberg switched you in the first place and why Dr. Pollard didn't switch you back."

Airiam sighed. "She didn't mention."

"Dr. Pollard sent me the papers after we last talked," Hugh said. "The problem was that Steinberg changed everything else while she was at it. I'm going to put your stomach meds and the migraine preventative back the way we had them, and then give you a different type of the same class of synaptic inhibitor. It's an older one but you haven't tried it yet--I'm hoping we won't run into safety issues and it'll give you similar benefits. We'll start you on the lowest dose. If it were anyone else, I'd say we'll increase the dose in a week, with you..."

"We see if the low dose works first and how well I tolerate it."

"Exactly." The tricorder beeped. "Your augments are all functioning normally."

Airiam sighed with relief.

"How's that plan sound?" Hugh unhooked the tricorder.

"Like a giant weight has been lifted, thank you."

"Any questions?"

"No."

Hugh crossed his arms. "I have one: why didn't you push Dr. Steinberg harder when she changed your meds in the first place?"

"She's the doctor, she knows..."

"Airiam, you've lived in your body for over twenty years, you know it better than anyone else," Hugh said. "I got an earful from Paul this morning about how you were worried that it was going to be a problem before you even switched medications and why on Earth didn't you say something to Steinberg?"

Airiam just sighed. "You are literally the only doctor who ever listened."

Hugh rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Thank you for that, but listen, you need to come at this from a different angle: it's your body. If you'd expressed your concerns to Drs. Steinberg or Pollard they might have come up with the same solution sooner--and you wouldn't have to have gone through three months of this."

"How'd you know..."

"Stamets and Rhys are very concerned. Like I said, I got an earful. From each of them."

"You mean Rhys is concerned and the Commander got elected..."

"No, Airiam. They spoke to me separately and Paul is very concerned."

She blinked.

"Paul is... well, you know how he can be. He doesn't let people in easily or lightly, and sometimes that comes off as standoffishness."

"I think I'm honored."

"I think you should be, but let's face it," Hugh winked mischievously, "I'm a little biased." 

Airiam laughed.

"Anything else going on?" Hugh asked. "Changes in pain? Shortness of breath? Anxiety?"

"Only during spore drive tests--or when I get dizziness attacks."

"That's to be expected." Hugh handed her a box with her new medications in it. "OK, back to duty, and let's have you back in three weeks to follow up, OK?"

"Yes, Doctor." Airiam accepted the box and left.

Hugh turned around to see Steinberg staring at him. "What?"

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?" Hugh saved the latest readings to Airiam's chart.

"Remind a patient to take care of themselves without sounding like you're lecturing them."

Hugh closed Airiam's chart on the biobed. "I treat it like a conversation, for starters. Also, you tend to go on a lot longer and repeat things several times. Assume they've got it the first time or they'll ask you if they don't. This isn't a walk in clinic where you don't know who's coming through the door: these are Federation officers. Treat them like it."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Hugh picked up a padd, to enter his notes for Airiam's appointment before his next patient arrived.

* * *

It was Thursday, so Hugh didn't see Paul until that night when he got back to their quarters a little while after Hugh did.

Hugh looked up from his padd. "Hey, babe, did you have fun storming the castle?"

"We did, but..." Paul shook his head.

Hugh raised an eyebrow.

"Airiam kissed me on the cheek when she got in? It was weird."

Hugh chuckled.

Paul settled next to him on the couch. "You told her about the earful you got last night, huh?"

"You know I couldn't tell you that." Hugh wrapped an arm around Paul's shoulders.

"True. How was your day?" Paul leaned into Hugh's arms.

"Steinberg asked me for advice."

"Wow."

"Yeah," Hugh said.

Paul kissed Hugh's cheek. "So things are going better?"

"Yeah." Hugh settled his face against Paul's cheek.

"I'm glad to hear it," Paul said. "You were OK with coming home to empty quarters?"

"You say this like it's new," Hugh said. "Except this time, I knew you were having fun and not still buried in your lab overworking yourself, so I didn't mind so much."

Paul laughed. "I see your point."

Hugh kissed him. "I love you so much."

"I love you too."

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

"Dr. Culber."

Hugh looked up from where he was putting the finishing touches on a chart. Price was frowning and her eyes were drawn. "Yes, Dr. Price?"

"Starfleet just sent us a request to use the spore drive. I take it from the message you sent wanting to speak about Commander Stamets' condition that you feel ready to give an informed opinion?"

"Yes, sir, but I don't think you're going to like it."

"Have you spoken to Commander Stamets about this?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. We have a briefing in the Captain's ready room in five minutes."

Hugh grabbed an isolinear chip with the relevant files. "Understood." He started heading for the door.

"Are you bringing visual aids, Doctor?" Price asked as they walked into the corridor.

"When the Captain approved my being Paul's advocate, I promised to always have data to back up my opinions." Hugh touched the button for the turbolift.

"So you have data."

"Yes, sir."

Price chuckled. "Going formal on me already."

"I have to go tell both you and the Captain why I absolutely won't clear my partner medically to make a jump that could save..."

"Hundreds..."

"Hundreds of lives," Hugh said. "And Paul's not really going to be happy about this discussion either."

The turbolift opened to reveal Paul's grim face.

"See?" Hugh asked as he stepped on.

Paul reached for his hand and Hugh took it, squeezing gently. 

"I didn't get a chance to talk to Dr. Price about this..."

Paul nodded. "Do what you've gotta do. I'll manage." He squeezed Hugh's hand.

Hugh sighed with relief, turning to face the turbolift doors as they slid closed behind him and Price. He could face a lot of this, but making Paul uncomfortable by having to bring this up in front of a large group wasn't something he'd been looking forward to.

Paul squeezed his hand again.

Hugh squeezed back as the turbolift doors opened on the bridge. Paul's hand dropped away, and he reluctantly let go. They strode out onto the bridge.

The Captain turned. "Will Ensign Tilly be joining us, Commander Stamets?"

"She said to send her regrets, Captain. I have her plotting a backup course using the AI."

"Mr. Rhys?"

Hugh heard a crash as Rhys jumped.

"Sir?"

"Will you be joining us?"

"Sir?" Rhys repeated.

"If you're joining us, come, otherwise I expect you won't burst in like last time."

"I think Dr. Culber and Commander Stamets have this covered, sir," Rhys replied. "I have tactical plans to make."

Hugh looked at the floor, feeling a blush climb into his cheeks. He could see red developing along Paul's ears. He made a mental note to never piss off the captain--this was probably a direct result of Rhys and Tilly bursting in on the last meeting.

Burnham stepped out of the turbolift.

"Very well, follow me people. Mr. Saru, you have the bridge."

"Yes, sir." Saru moved into the captain's chair as the captain led them to the conference room.

"Dr. Price, what is your recommendation?" the Captain asked as soon as the door behind them had closed, even as people were taking their seats.

"Dr. Culber just finished reviewing the Commander's file and wanted to speak to me. I would like to see his data before rendering an opinion."

Captain T'Plona raised an eyebrow. "I suspect, Dr. Culber, I'm not going to like what I'm about to hear."

"No, sir, I doubt you will. I don't recommend that Commander Stamets jump today--or anytime in the future, to be blunt." Hugh stood, holding up the isolinear chip. "If I may."

The Captain gestured towards the chip reader. "I trust that's the promised data to back up your recommendation."

"Yes, sir," Hugh said. He plugged the chip into the reader, and a line graph deceptively rose and then fell. "This is probably familiar--it's a bulk chart of Commander Stamets's symptoms over time."

"Yes; I don't see why you're concerned."

"Because there are confounds, Captain." Hugh touched a button and a criss cross of graphs appeared. "The black, solid line with the yellow highlight is the amalgamated graph, the others are individual symptoms."

"There's less of a pattern."

"There is still a pattern, sir." Hugh touched a button again. "The time axis starts when Paul--excuse me, Commander Stamets--injected himself with the tardigrade DNA. The vertical lines are, in order: when we mapped the Klingon ships with 133 jumps, my death, when the commander was paired up with Lt. Rhys for therapy purposes, Commender Stamets'..." he paused, looking for an appropriate phrase.

"Peak suicidal ideation," Paul put in.

"Yes," Hugh said, "and finally my return."

He touched another button, it moved some things around.

"I notice you're grouping the symptoms."

"Yes," Hugh said. "Do you want to go through each line?"

"At your discretion, doctor," the captain said.

"This is weight loss. You'll notice it doesn't start with the tardigrade injection, it starts here, with my death, and reverses once he was paired up with Rhys."

"You have an alternate explanation, Doctor?"

"A combination of grief and getting too caught up in his work to eat," Hugh replied. "You'll notice once he and Rhys were reminding each other to eat, it goes up to just about its pre-death levels and then evens out."

"You have an explanation for why it didn't go all the way back up I suppose?" the Captain said.

"Commander Burnham and Ensign Tilly dragging me out of bed to go jogging five days a week," Paul said.

"So," Hugh continued, "I think we can agree it's not related to the spore drive?"

"Yes," the captain said.

Hugh touched the line and it disappeared, the amalgam graph shifting accordingly.

"Purple is sleeplessness," Hugh said, "you'll notice it peaks between my death and Paul being paired off with Rhys, then falls sharply after my return. Another grief symptom."

He glanced at Paul. Paul was beaming widely, his back straight. Why...

Oh, wow. Paul was too busy being proud of Hugh to be embarrassed.

Hugh removed the sleeplessness line as well.

"Migraines," Hugh said. "This one is trickier, as they were climbing steadily over the entire time period, but Captain Lorca was putting a lot of undue pressure on the Commander--they did drop following Paul's suicide attempt once he was having to go to sickbay for every dose of abortive medication and someone noticed how frequently he needed them--so his preventatives were adjusted--but even so, he was still getting them several times a week. Then they drop precipitously after my return." He removed the line.

"Doctor, please save us some time and remove those other three lines from the chart that follow similar patterns."

Hugh did. "The remaining lines are lesions, post jump euphoria, and the periods of delusion. The last clear up shortly after Discovery's return to our own universe. Commander Stamets feels that these were caused by his counterpart's attempts to reach him through the mycelial network. If we remove that..."

The graph trended steadily upward.

"Computer, shift to the break out graph of the brain lesions," Hugh said. "You can see from here, the lesions in the Commander's white matter get larger and take longer to heal with each subsequent jump. I don't know what's going on, we don't know what about the jump is causing it, and we don't know how to reverse it. They still seem to be healing with time, and at the current rate they should be gone completely in a couple months. My concern is that even one more jump could mean that they either heal more slowly, or worse, start to grow instead of shrink."

The Captain frowned. Price looked grim. Burnham was rubbing the bridge of her nose. Why...

She felt she should have caught it, he realized. It had taken Hugh some deep diving to figure it out.

"Computer, switch to the bar chart for the periods of euphoria."

The bar chart was a steadily rising staircase.

"This is less worrisome, but I have to say, I don't like the trend. We don't know exactly what about the jumps makes Paul react this way, but..." he trailed off, not sure how to professionally articulate "I don't want this to result in a permanent personality change in my partner."

"Your thoughts, Dr. Price?"

"These data do suggest that the jumps are having long term adverse effects on Commander Stamets' health."

"Commander Burnham?"

"I agree with Dr. Culber, sir."

"Commander Stamets?"

"Dr. Culber has the MD in this family; I trust his judgement."

The Captain raised an eyebrow at him. Paul just returned the look evenly.

Hugh had to marry this guy. He blinked as the thought hit him. He took a deep breath, pushing it down for later analysis.

He could've sworn Michael was inspecting his and Paul's left hands, though.

"We have a saying on Vulcan, do the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one?"

Hugh blinked. "Captain, you can't be serious."

"Captain, as long as Hugh votes no, I'm not navigating," Paul said. "With your permission, I'd like to check Ensign Tilly and Lt. Airiam's progress with the AI navigation system."

The Captain stared at him.

Hugh was fighting a wide smile. He didn't care what anyone else said, he had convinced the only mind that mattered to him.

"Captain, Dr. Culber's analysis is sound, and in the absence of further data, I have to echo his recommendation," Price said.

"Also, Captain, think about the lives we could save if we get the AI system working. I doubt we'll do that without Commander Stamets here to run the project," Burnham said.

The Captain sighed. "Very well. Commander Stamets, go check on Tilly and Airiam. Dismissed."

They all stepped out of the ready room.

Hugh wanted to kiss Paul. Hard. But they were on the bridge, and Tilly was currently bent over Airiam's station, deep in conversation, so even getting a minute alone in the turbolift was out of the question. 

Paul squeezed Hugh's shoulder. "Thank you." He joined Tilly at Airiam's station before Hugh could reply.

"Dr. Culber, we'd better prepare for casualties," Price said.

"Yes, sir," he followed his CO onto the turbolift.

The doors closed. Hugh allowed himself a sigh of relief.

"Good work, Doctor Culber. That can't have been easy."

"Better than the alternative," he replied. "Much better."

"Agreed."

* * *

Hugh stopped to take a breath. It had taken them an hour, but they'd successfully jumped to the colony. He was just glad that the lightheadedness that he'd first experienced with spore jumps had abated. They'd been busy.

Rhys walked in, a red, angry gash on his cheek.

"Rhys, what happened?" Hugh asked.

"That last entry was kind of rough and I banged into the console. It's fine, but Paul and Saru ganged up on me and sent me here."

Hugh patted a biobed. "Hop up. It might be fine now, but if you leave it like that it's going to get infected and leave a scar."

Rhys shrugged. "I'm told some women go for that kind of thing."

Hugh just stared.

"Whoa, Paul was right, your judgment face is pretty scary."

Hugh rolled his eyes and reached for a dermal regenerator. "Hold still." He started running the tool over Rhys's wound. "And thanks, by the way."

"For what?"

"The vote of confidence earlier."

"You're his partner...."

"You're his friend; you're allowed to worry."

"Yeah, but you're the one with MD and I knew you wouldn't let him jump if he shouldn't jump. I didn't have to worry."

Hugh smiled.

"And thank you for giving him the space to still be my friend."

Hugh blinked. "Of course."

"I know I'd feel pretty weird if my partner had taken up with some other dude while I was dead, even if it was platonic."

"I don't have to tell you how hard it is for Paul to make friends."

Rhys chuckled.

"So why would I stand in the way of him finding a good one?"

Rhys frowned, considering.

"Besides that tiny, dark voice we all have in the back of our heads that tells us we're not good enough?"

Rhys blinked. "How..."

"Mine was kind of scared of you for a bit."

"Paul loves you so much, you make him so happy and he's so glad to have you back. Why would I stand in the way of that?"

Hugh stared for a moment.

Rhys laughed. "We're a pair."

"We are." Hugh turned off the dermal regenerator, taking a good look at his handiwork. "OK, you just need to clean your face off."

"Blood or egg?"

"There's some blood," Hugh replied. "No scar though; you'll have to rely on your cutting sense of humor to win the ladies."

Rhys frowned. "I don't think I'm ready for that, yet."

Hugh grabbed a damp cloth, running it over Rhys's face. "I bet. There's plenty of people here who have your back in the meantime--and I really hope you count me as one of them."

Rhys smiled. "Thank you. And the same."

There was an awkward pause.

"I should probably get back to the bridge. Hopefully I'll see you at dinner."

"I look forward to that," Hugh said, finding he meant it.

* * *

Hugh barely had time to grab dinner standing up, so many casualties coming in. He got five seconds to fire off a message to Paul saying not to wait for him (and that waiting up wouldn't be wise). It was late when he finally made it back to their quarters.

Paul was sprawled out on the couch, reading something on his padd. He looked up, sprang to his feet and ran to Hugh, kissing him tenderly. Hugh returned it, bringing his arms around Paul's back. Paul broke away, gently rubbing their noses together and leaning in close.

"Thank you," Paul said. "I've been been so nervous about another jump I didn't even know and this afternoon I just felt so protected and safe. I didn't realize how much I needed that. Thank you."

Hugh ran his hands down Paul's arms, smiling. "I wanted to thank you."

Paul blinked.

"I've been pretty nervous about the jumps too, and your health, and you--I was worried, having to expose you like that, but you were looking with me with such pride and then you basically put all your trust in me and I just felt," Hugh paused, searching for words, "valued, respected and--like we were just an immovable force you know? A team. It felt really good. Right. Like everything was falling back into place and the captain had better just bow to common sense."

Paul ran his fingers through Hugh's hair. "You didn't really need me for that, but I'm glad to have helped."

Hugh smiled. "Honestly, the way you basically trusted my judgement--and us as a family? Sign me up."

Paul kissed him again, sliding his hands up Hugh's shirt. Hugh raised his arms so Paul could take it off, and for awhile, they didn't have to talk.

* * *

Hugh surveyed himself in the mirror. Classic button down, pants...

There was a low whistle from behind him.

Hugh turned to find Paul walking in, smiling. "You look great!"

"Thank you."

"We agreed on 1600, right, I'm not flaking?"

"No, I'm just early."

"Well, let me change clothes and we can get going," Paul said, smiling. He went into the closet, grabbed some clothes (Hugh would be impressed at the speed, if he hadn't seen Paul messing around with different choices the night before.)

Hugh patted his pocket. Yup, still there. He watched Paul, smiling.

"If you keep looking at me like that, we're not going to make it out of our quarters, yet alone off the ship."

"Looking at you like what?" Hugh asked innocently.

Paul kissed him, then slipped into the bathroom. "I'll save you from temptation."

Hugh chuckled, shaking his head. Then he patted his pocket again.

He took a deep breath. He didn't know why he was so nervous, but he was. He looked over his hair and beard, nope all neat. He really couldn't do anything else unless he felt like going for eyeliner or something, but he wasn't in the mood.

Paul emerged from the bathroom, kissed his cheek, and then dumped his uniform in the 'fresher.

"Ready?" Hugh asked.

"Almost," Paul said. He went into his drawers. "There's sunblock in here somewhere."

Hugh smiled. "Isn't it in your nightstand?"

Paul slipped something Hugh couldn't quite see into his pants pocket. "It might be." Paul crossed the room, opened the drawer. "Yup, here it is."

He stood in range of the mirror, applying it to his face, neck, and hands. "Did I tell you about the time Rhys, Bryce, and Tilly dragged me to the beach on Vega Prime and I used sunscreen and still got a nasty burn?"

"You forgot to reapply?"

"I forgot that since I'd been in artificial lights for over six months my skin wasn't used to the sun at all."

Hugh winced.

"Doctor Steinberg gave me a lecture and a higher SPF." Paul turned. "Is it blended? Did I miss anything."

Hugh gently smoothed a lock of hair that was sticking up. "There you go."

Paul smiled, his eyes half closed. Hugh's heart fluttered and slowed. He had this. This was a lock.

Hugh held out his hand. "Shall we?"

Paul took it, smiling broadly. "Yes, let's."

They stepped out of their quarters, heading for the transporter room.

* * *

They walked arm in arm in the Deneb botanical gardens, wandering through the exhibits, Paul occasionally commenting on various fungi (only some of which were supposed to be there). Hugh kept finding himself squeezing tightly on Paul's arm, but Paul kept returning the pressure.

Hugh inhaled deeply as he could hear the waterfall in the distance. He could do this. He had this.

"Wow," Paul breathed as they turned the corner.

The falls were breathtaking--they were terraformed, like everything on the planet, but the river had formed over a natural rock formation hundreds of meters tall, and the botanical gardens had been built along its banks to take advantage of the view. Water gushed in a torrent and both sides were covered in dense, dark green vegetation--mostly vines cascading down the sides, echoing the water. The vines were dotted with flowers of every color of the rainbow and a few that Hugh hadn't seen in nature before.

Here was perfect.

He took a deep breath, turning to Paul and taking both of Paul's hands in his own.

Paul turned, looking up. "Hugh?"

"I..." he paused, stumbling.

Paul squeezed his hands, smiling at him.

"These last... I'm not going to try to figure out the timeline on this--but strange side trips aside, the best decision I ever made was transferring to Discovery to be with you."

A blush crept into Paul's neck and Hugh dropped Paul's right hand, reached into his pocket, and then dropped to one knee, holding out the ring.

"I..." words failed him. He'd planned more, what was it? "I, um..." He laughed nervously.

Paul reached into his own pocket. "I don't want to steal your thunder here, but would it help if I had one for you?" He held up a ring.

Hugh laughed, stood, and kissed Paul tenderly.

There was a faint sound of applause. Hugh turned, seeing an old pair of ladies smiling at them and clapping.

"Technically, neither of us said yes," Paul said.

Hugh jabbed him. "If we're both asking..."

Paul looked him in the eyes. "Did you want to finish? I really didn't mean to..."

Hugh kissed him again. Paul returned it, so tenderly that Hugh felt like their lips were floating.

Paul pulled away, resting his forehead against the bridge of Hugh's nose. "Hugh Culber, will you marry me?" he whispered.

"Of course I will," Hugh replied. He snuck a little peck on Paul's mouth. "I hope you like the ring."

Paul held out his hand. "Honestly, I barely looked at it before."

Hugh slid the ring onto Paul's finger. "I wondered why you thought it could possibly have been bought for anyone else."

It was a platinum band with mushrooms etched on it; their spots were sapphires, Paul's birthstone, set flush against the metal.

Paul blinked away tears. "It's perfect." He paused, lifting up the ring he'd brought for Hugh. "This was my great uncle's. Well, his husband's, actually. I realized I was gay shortly after my other great uncle passed away, he gave it to me and said he hoped whoever I gave it to would bring me as much joy. They were married for 80 years."

Paul slid the ring on Hugh's finger. It was a simple band with flush gemstones he didn't recognize. "I hope you like it."

Hugh smiled. "I love it almost as much as I love you."

Paul blushed. Hugh kissed him again, then wrapped his arm around Paul's shoulders. Paul leaned into the touch.

"We're going to get married!" Paul beamed.

Hugh hugged Paul, spinning him around. "We are!"

End


End file.
